Exhilarating
by LilyMarielle
Summary: She's timid and gentle. He's cunning, manipulative, and lost. Duty brings her to Asgard, her future uncertain. Away from home and its protection, she finds herself drawn to a certain prince while he declares her, "No one of importance, after all."
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1  
**

* * *

"You're ready."

"Father…" the maiden hesitated. "I do not wish to go."

Folkvar sighed. He had been expecting that. One look into his youngest daughter's eyes almost made him regret his decision. Almost.

"Kára," he started softly. "We have always provided Asgard with healers. Yours skills are ready. You will be taken care of. There's nothing to fear."

"I won't leave you." Her voice broke. She took on glance at her Father, slowly withering away, bedridden, tired, weak.

Folkvar provided her a stern gaze full of old age wisdom and command. Her shoulders dropped, along with her spirits. She stood slowly from kneeling at his father's bedside. With tender hands, she brushed the old man's hair aside and kissed his forehead softly. With as much courage as she could muster, she breathed out, "I will make you proud."

Her father chuckled and held her close. "You already have."

* * *

Her heart was heavy with sadness.

Glancing around her room while packing was enough to pull at the strings of her heart and tug another uncomfortable sensation. She had been packing since the early hours of morning, slowly, deliberately, stalling the moment when she would have to leave her home for indefinite time.

She sat on her small vanity and took a glance at the mirror.

She had shadows under her eyes. The very hours of the night had provided no comfort for her.

She was bound to leave her home for Asgard, for a place she had never seen, had never imagined and yet had been prepared all of her life to serve.

She was a healer. The youngest daughter of Folkvar and Astrid, out of four. Quite plain, compared with the beauty of her sisters. Kind, caring, insecure. There are many words Kára might have chosen to describe herself with, but she had over analyzed herself long before and nothing had changed.

The neighboring realm of Asgard welcomed her during the warm seasons, years ago. A small, pretty child, anticipated and loved by her family, she grew training to become the only healer her family could've provided. Her sisters neither had the skill nor the limitations of that last resort.

Her sisters had inherited many blessing from her parents. Whether a quick wit and charm of beauty unsurpassed. Kára deeply loved her sisters. Siri, with her sharp violet eyes and strong will was the epitome of a ruler, a queen, long destined to marry the prince of a realm far away. Eiri, with her widened mind and rapt interest for knowledge had grown bored with the healer training and wanted more. And Laetif, her older sister was impatient and beautiful, charming and eloquent. With their hair as light as sunshine and eyes different shades of blue, their future had been set up since young.

Growing up, Kára had never been able to identify how different she was from her sisters. Her hair was a dark shade of auburn, too dark to catch a spark or charm. Her eyes too were dark, brown and plain. She was curvy, curvier than other maidens. To her, this was a synonym of health. Apparently, that was not so attractive to other people. She had never minded, of course. Until turning into a young woman compelled her to wonder why her sisters had flock of young and not so young men around them and she did not.

Her parents had told her not to worry. In time, they would provide a match suitable for her. She didn't mind. Kára had long figured her match would be an advantageous one and not one made for love. Such things did not exist for people like her, she thought. Never with self-pity or misery. It's just a truth she had come to accept. So she dedicated herself to make others happy. Her sisters, who had always supported and loved her; her parents, who had pushed her into self-confidence with little success, those who wanted nothing but the best for her, as every parent would; her people, who trusted her skills as a young apprentice to the masters when most needed.

And she was happy, living her life for others. Until now, when her duty requested her presence away from her family, away from her dying father, away from the protection of her sisters and mother's embrace. Her people had come to love her, but she was not ready to face other realms.

Her insecurities were too many, everything out of her home sounded overwhelming. She had never had reason to and did not want to leave her haven. It was home.

_It is safe. _

But her father had asked. And she loved her father so deeply she could never refuse him. So she was being sent to Asgard, to serve his friend and King, Odin the Allfather, in his land.

Pushing all thoughts of misery aside, Kára finished packing. Handmaidens hurried to her aid in clearing everything from her room. Hurriedly, she snatched her precious satchel filled with empty scroll and pencils, a gift from her sisters, created from the beautiful gardens of Valhalla and its mystifying plants and flowers that had been used to create the pigments for her art.

With one last look inside, Kára squared her shoulders, planted a firm smile on her lips and mounted her horse, ready to leave her beloved home behind.

* * *

It was all so grand and beautiful.

Asgard was everything she had never imagined. It was greater, more astonishing than everything her mind could've once imagined.

As she stood at the foot of the main entrance to the palace, she couldn't help the breathy sound of her exhale, taking everything in. The overwhelming feeling was too much that she stood rooted to the spot until a kind gentleman made a motion to follow him. The Allfather was waiting and she was to be led straight to him as soon as she arrived.

Her handmaidens stood at her side, shielding her, it seemed. They walked through halls and passages, grand galleries and gardens until reaching an airy hallway.

"Allfather," The guard fell on one knee. "Lady Kára has arrived with her company."

Odin was intimidating, to be sure. Even in his injuries of battle, his only eye was enough to make anyone fall to their knees in respect. He towered over everyone in an aura of power and leadership. And yet, as Kára made her way forward, heart pounding, palms shaking, the Allfather granted her a small smile, kind and understanding.

His friend's child was small and frail. She was brave, he was sure about it, but he doubted if she knew it. For now, he thought, she needed gentle hearts around her. She was much like a child, forever protected by her parents, innocent and naïve. "Come, child." He beckoned.

Kára dropped stance to a respectful bow. "Allfather, my mother and father send with me their sincere gratitude. It is an honor to walk the land of my ancestors." Turning to Frigga, she added, "My queen, please accept the gifts my family sends."

Frigga smiled gently. "Welcome to Asgard, daughter of Folkvar. I pray your mother and father are well."

The young lady smiled sadly. "Thank you, my queen."

"I know your father is ill, Kára." Odin's mighty voice turned soft. "We must not despair. I'm sure he sent you here with purpose and it is a great honor to provide care for you in our land."

Kára bit her lip. Thought her eyes were sad and lonely, she smiled peacefully. "I…I am not sure of my father's intentions, Allfather, but I am here to make him proud, to serve you and your people."

Odin nodded approvingly. The girl before him may not impress much at first glance, but she had spirit and her docile being had something about her, something hidden. "We welcome you, child and request your presence in last meal tonight. You shall meet my sons and their closest friends as well as your tutor."

Kára smiled widely. Though she was nervous, the Allfather had provided with the calming nature of her reception that she couldn't help feeling that she had been childish and petty in her worries. She would make the best of this journey. For herself and for her family.

* * *

He was doing it again.

Loki's thoughts betrayed him.

Thor was celebrating along with everyone else while his brother watched on with conflict.

_He's not fit to be king._

He shook his head. He tried to ignore it. He tried to defend Thor against his own mind. But the truth was clear and soothing to his troubled soul. This was his justification. This was his advocacy.

That his brother was not ready to ascend the throne of Asgard brought peace to his ever-growing anxiety. To his own concern, he himself was more suited for the role. And he loved the idea.

Growing in the shadow of his mighty brother, in a society where power lay in raw strength of body and mighty screams of war, Loki had found himself always second best. Looked down upon by some, feared by others. It enraged him. He wasn't a pariah, no. But he wasn't the one casting the shadow. He lived in one and it angered him. His father had always said they were meant to be kings. And Loki had fought long and hard to become one. Cunning, manipulative, astute; gifted in eloquence and diplomacy. HE was fit to rule.

Loki shook his head, willing himself to focus on the festivities. He needed to stop that envious logic. He loved his brother. Loved his brother deeply. Despite the fights and disagreements, Thor had always acted upon his role as an older brother, protecting Loki from harm. He stood up for him more often than not. And Loki was grateful…

He glanced around with mild entertainment. Loki had never particularly enjoyed the gran festivities of the House of Odin and tonight was no different. He was indifferent to that which he couldn't take advantage of. As children, he remembered, he and Thor hadn't been allowed to attend so they had to amuse themselves in mischief. Loki enjoyed it the most. Harmless pranks that got both brothers under the stern lectures of the Allfather had been worth it. Only so that growing up they'd have something to share. As they grew, their paths became diverted. Thor favored war and strength. Loki, power in all of its forms, particularly magic. Their parents had been supportive, of course.

"My friend!" Fandral's slap in the back caught him as he stood. "Why are you here brooding? You should be drinking and dancing. Enjoy the celebrations!"

"I am simply tired. I do not wish to be here."

The warrior gave him a knowing nod. "Yes, yes, but you'll miss the introductions."

"From whom?" Loki asked.

Fandral's eyebrows shot up. "Why, Lady Kára, of course. Did you not know? The Allfather has asked her to come tonight." At Loki's stormy eyes, he quickly added. "Oh it's alright. Thor was not aware of it, either. We only know because Sif offered to care for her preparations beforehand."

The young prince became thoughtful. "And how is it that we were not told about this?"

"How should I know?" Fandral offered with a good-natured smile. "Perhaps her beauty is a legend's tale that has been left as a surprise for you, princes, or perhaps something more dramatic for your convenience."

"No." Loki started slowly. "I don't believe it's of any importance that would require our immediate attention."

"Perhaps." Fandral conceded. "But…ah, so there she is."

A petite figure walked unsure across the Hall, glancing around timidly. Sif, walking besides her, was talking animatedly. They approached the Allfather and Frigga, kneeling and bowing. The young maiden, it was noted, stood close to Frigga as though expecting some protection from the curious eyes.

And for the second time that night, someone slapped him hard in the back. Loki grimaced slightly. "It seems we are needed, brother." Thor grinned and pulled him towards the throne.

"Sons," began Odin as they approached. "This is lady Kára, daughter of Folkvar and our guest tonight. A healer, sent by our gracious friend to serve the realm."

Loki's eyebrows furrowed. _A healer of noble birth. How curious. _He studied the woman standing before him. Clad in a heavy yellow gown, she was only adorned by the warm smile now directed towards them. Her dark hair fell across her shoulders and to her back in a straight blanket. Her dark eyes danced in mirth and wonder as his brother took her hand and kissed it lightly. "Prince Thor, prince Loki. It is a great privilege." Her voice was amiable and well mannered. Timid, small, like everything her.

As expected, Loki took the offered hand and pressed his lips against the delicate, fair skin. As she modestly pulled it away and blushed, casting her eyes downward, Loki was filled with a thought he'd regret in the near future. _No one of importance, after all._

* * *

**Author's note: Hello, everyone!**

**Well, I've been officially Loki'd. This story came to me as bit and pieces of ideas for scenes I'd like to see in a story. Loki, set during the Thor movie, is not as jaded as we see him at the end of the movie. His personality (I hope I can do it justice) will start off as the young man we see in the first deleted scene of Thor, further developing into who he will become.**

**Personally, I like criticism, if it is written in a very gentle manner. English is not my first language so I often have trouble with it. Please, bear with me.**

**I'd really like, for all the readers (please review! It's very much appreciated), if you guys have any ideas you'd like to see happening in the story, suggestions, feel free to let me know! I love to put everyone's opinion and wishes into consideration.**

**This is my first fanfic in a very long time.**

**Hopefully, this is the start of a marvelous journey!**

**Needless to say, reviews are needed for encouragement. Thank you!**


	2. Blurry Eyed

**As a note before the chapter, thank you for your kind reviews! I try to reply to all of them individually. If you do not have an account, I will try to reply in my author's notes.**

**- To Sherri, my first review! Thank you! I hope I can do justice to the character and the healer abilities. **

**I suddenly got worried that many might think Loki wouldn't be in character during this part of the story. It's true that I've decided to make him less jaded, as I suspect he would've been before being consumed by thoughts of envy and jealousy. **

**Stick with me, I promise you won't regret it.**

**I've already written down some scenes that you'll love…but they'll come later on.**

**To everyone visiting, please review. I have no shame to beg for reviews since they are the encouragement an author needs. Anyone with a story out there would understand. **

**Thank you!**

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Blurry Eyed**

* * *

Kára hadn't been ready for the festivities. She never was. Though she enjoyed them much at home, being in a strange land, full of people she didn't know, sent her nerves on edge.

Walking back to the Hall with lady Sif was a pleasure. The young warrior had been kind and patient, to which Kára imagined she was making a great effort in contrast to her fighter personality. She greatly appreciated the resolve. Sif was explaining the details of the days in Asgard, but she wasn't paying attention. Rubbing her nervous hands on the fabric of her dress, she exhaled.

Sif turned a worried look her way. "Are you ill?"

Kára sharply looked up, realizing how rude she must've been behaving. "Oh, no. Please forgive me. I should've paid attention to your descriptions, lady Sif." She bit her lip. "I'm restless."

"Call me Sif." Her blue eyes grazed the smaller girl and smiled encouragingly. "I have a feeling you are in need of a friend right now. I'll stay with you."

With a huge smile of relief, Kára nodded. "Thank you…Sif."

"Now, Kára, my friend," she nodded. "There's nothing for you to worry about. Well, you should beware of Fandral, but you already know that."

The dark haired girl laughed. "I know, I know. He will try to wisp me off into the night. I shall be cautious."

Sif had described her friends in great detail. From Fandral the Dashing in his quick charm, Hogun the Grim with his sullen attitude and Volstagg the Valiant who could be seem fierce and dangerous but was in truth a big man with a compassionate heart. She, too, had described Thor in great detail and from the way she did, Kára figured her new friend was enamored with the young prince. Apparently, Thor was a marvelous warrior, courageous fighter and faithful friend. His faults and childish ambitions could be overlooked as time passed and Odin forged him with a firm hand.

When Kára has asked about the younger prince, Loki, Sif had refused to give a concrete portrayal of his character. Sif deemed it best if she could make her own judgment as hers was too jaded to give him justice.

Since she had never met the princes, Kára made no notice of the negativity. It would be impossible, of course, to be liked by everyone in the realm so she assumed Sif's animosity towards the prince was nothing of transcended importance.

Before she even noticed, they were walking towards the Allfather, followed by stares of some of the more curious attendees of the feast. Shuffling awkwardly in her dress, Kára stood close to Odin, waiting to be introduced.

She first took notice of Thor: big, bulking and smiling. She liked him immediately. His smile was not an arrogant one, but a good-natured offer of friendship. After a quick inspection, she turned to the younger, darker prince. Kára had seen many handsome princes, dashing men, beautiful even courting her sisters and serving her father throughout her life. She had often been enamored with one or two childhood friends while growing up. Yet, she hadn't felt the pull of knots in her body as attraction in a very long time.

Something in her lower abdomen pulled at her navel unexpectedly, swelling, growing. The prince was tall, towering over her in an intimidating aura. His skin was fair and pale, delicate in the candlelight. He had an air of mystery about him, dark and masculine. His eyes were a rare, blazing emerald shade, though she suspected the morning light would change their color. His fixed his eyes upon her, stilling the beating of her heart for a silver of a moment. Embarrassedly, she looked away, bowing to lower her eyes away from the intense scrutiny of the dark haired prince. "Prince Thor, prince Loki. It is a great privilege."

Oh, how she hoped her voice had not come across as a breathy whisper. The heat rose in her cheeks at her uncomfortable predicament. She offered her hand to Thor first, willing her flushed skin to return to normal. He kissed and squeezed it tenderly, reassuring. Loki, instead, took her hand and barely grazed his lips, offering a small smile of indifference.

Kára willed her thoughts to focus. They were too enthralling in quality, which would fail to achieve her purpose and bring her pain she did not need. Quickly dissipating her initial nervousness, she took Thor's offered arm and allowed herself to be led to her seat.

* * *

To say that Kára had expected last meal to be different would've been a vast understatement. She had anticipated an evening of awkwardness, perhaps a bit of hostility towards a stranger like her. The feast, however, had been pleasantly enjoyable.

Sif and the warriors had made her laugh merrily, thoroughly enjoying their stories of war and jests pulled on each other. As the evening wore on, the attendees got bolder. Thor had been whisked off in dancing long before, to Sif's greatest annoyance. She was no short of admirers, if seemed, for she soon was taken taken away herself, which only left Volstagg and Hogun. Loki, of course, was engaged in conversation and imposed not to be disturbed. So she sat in silence, marveling at her fortune.

For the first time since she arrived, she felt hope that this journey would be pleasant.

"Do you not dance, lady Kára?"

Her head whipped around so fast, her neck might've snapped. Looking down at her, Loki fixed her with an amused smirk.

Shaking her head, she replied, "I do not, your grace."

"You have been instructed, though. Correct?" Loki urged her on.

"I have, yes. It's lack of practice that wills me to my seat." She laughed lightly, eyes dancing in mirth. "I do not wish to embarrass myself."

Loki was sincerely confused. His father had always said gracious Folkvar enjoyed his own luxuries in feasts and dance. "But surely Folkvar's gracious hall would be filled with entertainment."

Kára eyed him fleetingly. "Oh, yes. Father has always been most accommodating." She could see he was expecting a more elaborate answer. With an air of indifference, she replied. "Let's say that gentlemen were more drawn to other females in the room." Quickly, she rectified how scornful that sounded. "Not that I minded, of course. There are many other activities one can engage into."

He certainly could see why men would prefer other females. Folkvar's fabled daughters were said to be beautiful. Perhaps they have only sent the runt of the family. She was amiable, he had discovered. Her good nature and honest joy drew friends about her, and she was not slow to follow conversation. She was well-read and astute, thought without any trickery. Her most agreeable trait, he decided, was her laugh: honest, joyful, free. But she was, in the end, like any star in the heavens. Amazingly common.

"What can you find to entertain yourself with?" he wondered. "Do you like to intoxicate yourself?"

She laughed and coughed. "No, no. I do not favor strong beverages." Looking around, she pointed. "Look around, not all people are dancing, some are eating, some are playing, some are engaged in conversation…like we are now." With a twinkle in her amused eyes she fixed her eyes on him. "Or is that you do not dance, either, your grace?"

He chuckled. "I do dance, when the situation calls for it."

Kára nodded. "I see. Well, there are many ladies sitting over there. And I must say they are looking at you like a particularly decadent meal." She willed him to turn to the females in question.

There were, indeed, a group of females eying him most brazenly. Loki was no stranger to indecent activities and it would be so easy to have a young maiden after a few dances. Kára had partially turned his back on him. Not on purpose, of course. She had just figured he'd be on his way. But he had not moved. He took her in, and in the deepest part of his soul something stirred. He felt pity. He knew she didn't have pity left for herself but he did, because she seemed like him, in a way. Out of place, turned away, passed on by those who favored others. In that, they were different: Loki was not ignored. He could be taken more lightly by some, but never ignored. His position and birthright gave him an advantage, but she was ignored by everyone who did not particularly know her. She wasn't sorry for herself, no. Her demeanor was more a calm resignation, peaceful even.

"Dance with me."

The words came out before he could stop them. Kára, who had been distractedly toying with her food, turned slowly. "I'm sorry?" Her brow furrowed.

"Dance with me." He repeated. He wasn't entirely sure why he was insistent. Perhaps he felt sorry for her, perhaps he was just feeling lonelier tonight.

Her cheeks blushed furiously. He was offering his hand out, the long fingers in silent invitation and by Odin, she wanted to accept. Flattery had never been spared much for her and this was flattering. She thanked him silently, in her thoughts. She knew he felt sorry for her. She did not need it, though, and the prospect of dancing awkwardly with a prince on her first night in Asgard only made her feel more nervous.

Flustered, she breathed out. "Oh…your grace, forgive me. I do not wish to dance. You may have underestimated just how bad I am in movement coordination."

A pang at his navel hit rock bottom. "I see." His pulled his hand back. He knew this wasn't a rejection. The scared little mouse in front of him was incapable of disappointing others. Still, the denial felt familiar and he did not like it.

Sensing his discomfort, Kára quickly put a hand to his forearm. "Your grace…I thank you for your kind offer, but I would be a most ill suited partner to entertain you tonight." She bit her lip, thinking quickly of an alternative. "Perhaps, if it is to your liking, you could tell me stories, like your friends."

_Comparison. _Poor Kára did not know how irritate the young prince had become at being expected to be like his friends. He was not like them, and being expected to be, made him frustrated and angry. "I do not have valiant stories for you, lady Kára. Perhaps Fandral would be willing to accommodate you."

"Then tell me your own. What sort of conversation does prince Loki favor?" She gave him a wide smile, thoroughly unaware of his dark thoughts.

It occurred to him then, that she was good with words as he was. Very different, however, was the nature of them. He used his own with precision, analytical and calculating. They were his best defense, his best weapon. Words, he understood, were dangerous. Instead, her words spurred from compassionate understanding. She had spent endless times being observant. She understood people. A trait of a healer, it seemed, and not just a physical healer. She stilled him with her truthful interest.

She was patiently waiting for him to sit, to talk…and he did. She grinned at him, eyes almost entirely closed in happiness. "Tell me."

It occurred to him that he did not know when to start. No one had taken such sincere interest in his every day life. Of course, she was just being kind and they both seemed in need of conversation. He had no desire, however, for dull conversation. "Won't you have some wine?"

She laughed. "No, your grace. I've only once had too much to drink. I vowed it would never happen again." Her playful nature was exhausting and invigorating all at once. "I drink only water, for now."

"Water." He mused. "Is this your cup?" At her nod, he took it, waved his hand on it and gave it back. "Taste it."

He was smiling cheekily, eager eyes in challenge. Playfully, she gave him a mild distrusting look and sniffed the cup. Her childlike attitude was slightly endearing. Having not able to smell anything different, she took a sip. Her eyes turned wide as the liquid passed her lips and in her shock a drop of seemingly water fell to her chin. Her shock made her sputter half words in confusion and he chuckled, grazing her chin with his thumb to brush the drop. She started at his touch, grabbing her cloth and drabbing it on her mouth.

"Did you do this?" her voice came out in an excited rush. She put a finger in the cup, touching the water. Pulling a finger out, she inspected it. It looked like water, still lacked aroma, just like water did. Her eyebrows shot up. "This is astonishing." Her eyes turned excitedly on him. She had never seen magic before. Healer magic was different, relying on natural resources' properties. She bounced lightly on her seat, her lady like upbringing barely containing her excitement. "Can you do something else?"

She was like a child. Her wide brown eyes danced feverishly on his face. Her smile was contagious. For the first time, since he was a child when Thor had asked him to do more, he felt flattered, genuinely. His magic was what he was most proud of. Not many people in Asgard thought it useful or necessary.

And he had this creature before him, eager to see more. His chest felt a sudden pride he had kept locked only for himself in his dark thoughts. He took one look at her happy eyes and laughed. "What would you like to see?"

* * *

**To anyone visiting, thank you!**

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**Please review! If anyone has scene ideas they'd like to see happen, I take everything into consideration. **

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**Loki lovers, it's been a pleasure.**

**I'll try to have a chapter up in the next two days. I'm on call today, so...I'll sneak off in between patients to write!**


	3. Reaching Out

**And we're back for another chapter!**

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**This is a gift to all you who reviewed. As soon as I'd seen how many people took the time to write something, anything, because they liked it, I put myself into writing, to express my appreciation. I'm at a family reunion being a hermit, typing furiously! **

**So here we go!**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Reach Out**

* * *

"I don't think we should be doing this." Kára gasped in between fits of hushed laughter. She was still sitting in the Hall, watching everything that was happening around her with relish.

Loki turned to give her a nonchalant smile. "Oh, it's just a bit of fun. It won't hurt anyone."

"Someone will notice." She pointed out.

He shrugged. "You can be surprised at how simple-minded some people can be."

Kára bit her lip. There was something in the way he talked about other people, something that made her uneasy. There was no pure malice in his voice, but there was something there, buried. But looking into his eyes she saw a deep desire to please, to be recognized. As a healer, empathy was thrust upon naturally, growing with every passing year. If something happened, she could take the blame.

Truthfully, she was as enthusiastic as him. Magic, she concluded, was dazzling.

At first, she had requested simple tricks, without imagination. 'Change the color, switch the taste, make it bigger.' He wanted to show more. As the evening drew on, he grew bolder in his demonstrations. It started subtle at first. Nothing she could actually pinpoint to, but something was odd. The drop in temperature, the sudden hot breeze, the change in the fire's color, how he produced flames to dance around people's feet. She was in awe at everything she saw, every feeling she experienced.

"You could get in trouble."

His eyebrows shot up while a mischievous half smile grazed his lips. "Life's no fun without a bit of trouble."

She pushed his arm with a defeated laugh. "You're…" She couldn't find a word for him. He was like so many sensations yet nothing at all could describe him concretely. She struggled to find a word, looking helplessly into his eyes with a wondrous smile.

"What am I?" he asked with a challenging yet amused look.

Chuckling, she shook her head in defeat. "I don't know." She liked him too. Like Thor, his natural upbringing made him intimidating to her eyes. But she hadn't been hopeful that he'd be so charming. He knew his words well, the careful articulate of his sentences. He adapted to every person in the room, shifting minds and styles to suit each individual. She was no different and he adapted to her fragile ambience.

What she did not know was that she had something Loki very much wanted. The utmost admiration in her eyes, whether sincere or by just being bedazzled by a new experience, crawled in his being, imprinting itself in his mind's eye. Suddenly, he could see Asgard, all of Asgard acknowledging his power, crying out for him in reverence. His wounded ego needed soothing and she knew how to do it so well, without even being aware of it. It pleased him to see the approval in her eyes. Being so simple-minded, he couldn't count solely on her to get the respect he needed. He wanted more. But she was the start and he was not about to let it go. He needed to make a lasting impression, something unmatched. In the corners of his mind, these thoughts were less formidable than his ambitions, reflected by dreams of power and control. These thoughts, of capturing someone's look of idolization, were less frightening, but in the end…they had the same quality and this was a sweet reward.

He looked around critically. Everyone was feasting, eating like wild animals after years of starvation. There was no measure in the Hall of Odin tonight. Some people never showed any measure. It had started very subtle. A little change here and there. People were confused. Someone's dress had changed color. Someone else had lost a piece of jewelry later found dangling from a candlestick. A man in the farthest corner was shuffling his mouth awkwardly as his mustache seemed to have grown absurdely long in the last minute. But it was not enough. He concentrated harder, reaching out to feel every crevice, every corner of the room, every speck of energy needed to achieve his goal.

A muffled cry was heard, snapping her everyone's attention. Kára's mouth dropped. She would've been terribly worried, if it hadn't been so comical. Everyone in the room seemed to have expanded. Bellies were protruding, robes and gowns had tears where they had split open. It seemed as if everyone had grown a few inches on the waist, hips, thighs, neck. Some people were horrified, others were confused. Some, embarrassed, had taken to hiding, gushing out quick farewells. Excusing themselves, silent chaos ensued.

Kára looked at the prince responsible. She wasn't laughing now but staring in wonder. How powerful was he? His calm demeanor made it seem effortless and the look of silent glee in his eyes was a bit too innocent to be considered an ill natured prank. She wanted to feel offended at his jest, but he had glanced at her with such a proud gaze, such a childish smile, it was hard to do anything else. She leaned into him slightly, laughing only to his ears. She had tried to hide her smile but he was smiling at her too. Kára couldn't remember when she had made a man smile like that. It seemed genuine, not at all forced upon by courtesy or good manners. He was rewarding her. It seemed so petty, being proud to make someone smile, perhaps selfish that it was at the expense of others but she had liked it. It stirred something inside her body that she didn't understand or place. It was confusing and terrifying all at once, exciting even.

"Loki." Thor was before them now, a look of slight warning on his face. "Are your responsible for this?" The Warriors Three and Lady Sif, stood by his side, completely unchanged.

It seemed that everything was back to normal. Though a lot of people had left, many remained in the Hall, having taken the prank with nonchalant humor.

Loki smiled defiantly at them. Kára was at his side, still smiling kindly. It made him feel triumphant. "Why, yes."

"It was my fault, your grace." Kára had stood, bowing her head. "Forgive me. I begged prince Loki for a slight demonstration. We did not mean to cause trouble."

"Lady Kára is not to blame." Loki spoke with frustration. "I found the evening to be a bore."

"Kára, please." She addressed him. "Since we have already found ourselves to be in trouble together, I do hope we can call each other a friend."

Loki couldn't understand it. How some people had it in their beings to be so…good. Compassion was a weakness, but she used it like a weapon instead, disarming him.

There was something in her smile. It was nothing in particularly radiant or extraordinary, but it was so gentle and honest it was difficult to reprimand. Thor was not an ignorant fool. He perceived more than most about his brother. He had always been more jaded in his life. It seemed odd that he would chose this girl to impress, he thought. Loki liked his women with glorious beauty. It made him feel advantageous. But he seemed sincerely taken with the frail woman beside him that Thor wouldn't have it in his heart to take that away from him. Though others may not understand why he stood up for him, he still did. Thor may have been a shadow to his brother, but no one could deny he loved him dearly.

"I thought it funny." The big prince declared. He winked at his brother. "Just don't let Father take notice of it."

Fandral was smirking too, but one look at Sif's stern gaze stilled him. Not everyone was impressed.

Loki was thankful for his brother's defense, but he did not need it. The triumph was sweeter in her eyes. His brother would forget about this by the next course and everyone would dismiss it as a good prank. She, however, looked at his abilities with curious wonder. It made him feel powerful.

Kára found awkward situations to be terribly uncomfortable. When that happened, she made her excuses quick. The situation, at this moment, called for a swift escape as well. "Forgive me, once more, your grace. I believe I will retire. I do not wish to be late for my duties tomorrow."

"Thor." The bulky man clarified with a grin. "We are all friends here, are we not?"

She was pleasantly surprised and conceded. "Of course!" With a small bow, she started to retreat. "Goodnight my friends." As she passed Sif, the female warrior gave her a slight nudge on the arm, communicating with female silence and a warm smile. At the edge of the Hall, she turned, waved and disappeared with the rest of the people in their leave.

* * *

Kára walked silently through the open hallways in direction of her room. Her room was located in a far side of the palace, near the healing grounds. The landscape had changed the further she went on. Open spaces with long arches and columns adorned the gardens that decorated both sides of the hallway. The candlelight guiding her steps was diming, so she hurried her step, but as she rounded a corner, a dawning horror came to her. She was lost. She had been so nervous about her first night on Asgard that she barely remembered the way back after Sif had guided her to the Hall.

Cursing herself, she turned back, only to come face to face with a dark haired prince.

"You don't happen to be lost, are you?" He was cheekily mocking her.

She sighed. "I am, indeed. I did not want to trouble anyone by asking to be guided. I thought I could find my way back." She laughed. "I will have some difficult times finding my way around."

"Come, I'll take you home." He was waiting, like a perfect nobleman.

Kára felt incredible gratitude towards Loki. Not only had he showed her friendship on her first night, but was already saving her from embarrassment and getting lost. She walked besides him, clasping her arms before her. She was ashamed of how frail she must seem like. Like a wounded animal taken from home to be placed in a different habitat, disoriented.

Loki had not come to find her out of the goodness of his heart. It seemed impossible to want more recognition than the one she had already given him. But his ambition bordered on obsession and he loved being adored, even if it came from such a simple creature.

They walked in silence for some time, feeling the breeze ruffle their clothes.

"You seem quiet now." He commented. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stifle a yawn.

She fixed him a bubbly smile. "I am tired. I did not expect to have such a wonderful time."

"Oh?" He raised a curious eyebrow. "And what was it you expected?"

Kára considered this for a moment. After all, she didn't want to insult him or his family. "I don't know." She answered truthfully. "I suppose I had felt apprehensive. I have never been away from home before. I did not expect you to be…" Once again, she was at a loss for words. "Asgardians, I mean, to be so hospitable."

Loki nodded. "You thought we would attack you."

With a nervous chuckled she clarified. "Not attack me, no." She gave him a pointed look. "Do I look to be menacing in any way?"

His low laugh was teasing. "Perhaps if you did not smile so much."

She couldn't help it. She smiled. His attentions were unfathomable to her. It did not matter, she would enjoy them. Through the course of the night she had discovered her feelings were indicating an attraction to Loki. It was not hard to imagine.

He was brilliant, powerful, sophisticated, eloquent, gifted at strategy, seduction, and diplomacy. Everything he did had a way. Being observant as she was, she picked up on his character immediately. There were many buried purposes about him, but the basics she had.

She wasn't about to turn to a foolish girl with hopeless dreams. He was just a friend, being kind enough to show her some agreeable moments in pity. She was grateful, of course. And that was it. Nothing beyond that would happen and that suited her just fine. It was pain she did not need.

"Have I lost you?" His deep voice whirled her out of her thoughts.

Blushing, she waved a hand to her face. "I am sorry. I seem to have become distracted."

"Your thoughts seem most interesting." He drawled. "I wonder what it is you thought so hard of that you failed to notice we just circled around that fountain twice."

If her cheeks had not been aflame before, she was sure they were now. With a breathy laugh, she excused herself. "Nothing of importance, I assure you. My mind often wanders off."

"Well, then. If I alone can't hold your attention…." He broke off.

Another deep voice resounded behind her and she whirled around in shock, glancing at the two Lokis circling her. "Perhaps two of me will."

* * *

**Well, a bit of a cliffhanger. **

**Next chapter will be a bit more sensual, so be ready for it! Not to worry, their relationship will not develop ridiculously fast that it would be unbelievable and unrealistic. **

**But hang in there with me!**

**As always, please review!**

**Reviews make me happy, happiness makes me write fast. **

**I know, I'm evil blackmailing you guys but I can't help it! I crave them!**

**Thank you!**


	4. Unglued

**Dear God!**

**You are the most amazing people in the world! I am all giddy with excitement. **

**How can I possibly thank you guys enough?**

**I can't think of anything, except try the best I can to make this story amazing for you. That being said, I just got out to watching The Avengers for the fifth time. And I have to tell you, I went with the full intention of getting inspiration for the story's direction.**

**And phew! My own mind blew me off. This is going to be a HOT, bumpy ride! So, please bear with me.**

**- Masochismet: Thank you! Here you go, a new update! =)**

**- M: Thank you! How sweet of you. =)**

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**- Tainted Rainbow: Thank you! Isn't he just? =)**

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**Enough of my ramblings, you say? Alrighty! Let's get on with chapter 4!**

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Unglued**

* * *

_How can this be possible?_

Kára didn't gasp.

She didn't clutch a hand to her heart or try to run away in horror.

She was rooted to the ground, feet refusing to move. Her shock was palpable. Loki was circling on her, smirking; both of them were prancing around like proud peacocks. Her wide eyes tried to follow one, the real one, whichever it was.

They were both alike, extremely so. In fact, she concluded dejectedly, it was impossible to differentiate one from the other. They had the same strut, the same black robes, the same pale face and blazing eyes.

She backed away slightly, not because she was afraid, but because she had to do something or say anything and no words were coming out of her mouth.

The Loki to her right was laughing, shaking his head. "Have I frightened you?"

"It was not my intention." The other one continued. "I offer my sincerest apologies if I did." But his smirk held too much amusement to be believable.

_Inconceivable. _

"H-How…You…I…" She wasn't particularly aware of her stutter. In her head, the confusion was perfectly clear, enough for him to understand her half uttered words.

"Magic." His serious answer did not seem to dissipate the fog in her eyes. Almost worried, he gushed out. "Don't be afraid. Truthfully, I did not mean to scare you."

She shook her head. "I am not afraid."

"You are not?" Loki seemed taken aback. One raised his eyebrows.

She had been exploring the mirage in front of her. She looked form one projection to the other, critically exploring every speck of flesh, every angle, still trying to find a way to the real Loki. After she heard his confounded tone, she stared straight into his eyes. "Should I be?"

She probably looked a bit foolish, if indeed the Loki she was addressing was not the real one.

He seemed to consider this for a moment. After a pause, he shook his head. "I do not believe you need to be afraid."

Kára nodded and went back to her inspection. "I didn't think so. I just…" The initial impression had passed, her brows came together in confusion and she turned the tables on him. "Don't move." She commanded.

Loki raised his eyebrows in mock offense. "Pardon?"

"Stay still for a moment." She obliged him once more. She was walking around him now, completely immersed in concentration. She walked around one Loki, then the other, eyeing up and all the way down, making little noises under her breath. Her eyes furiously searched him over. At one point, she stood, as close as she could in her short height, near his eyes and locked him in gaze. Her eyes searched his intensely. But then she turned and did the same with the mirage. Huffing in disappointment, she turned to circle him once more.

She amused him immensely. "Is there a purpose to me standing still while you walk around me like that?"

"I am trying to distinguish the real you, whoever it is."

"You can't." His tone was serious.

Kára stood straight once more and sighed. "I don't like not knowing. I must've looked like a fool, talking to you. Was I even talking to you?" she laughed at her own foolishness.

"We're both me."

"That's impossible." Kára was shaking her head, logic in her mind taking over.

"I've shown you the impossible, by now, have I not?" He wanted to hear her say it. To hear that she had never seen magic before, that his powers had no match, that he could captivate anything and anyone within reach.

She looked into his eyes, into both sets of eyes. She couldn't say that what she'd experienced was like nothing she had seen before. Such admission should be professed to the real Loki, if she could bring herself to say it.

She meditated this thought, biting her lower lip. "If I were to make such a confession, I'd very much prefer to do it to your grace's face."

_She would say it._ He grinned. "There's no need for such formality." He admonished. "It was to my belief we were friends."

She nodded calmly. "I did say that and it is true. Yet friendship is delicate and has many layers. It could be shallow or profound. Trust cultivates it and it should grow…with time."

They both smiled at her and walked around again. "If I show you trust, would you trust me back?" He was behind her, walking closer with every word. The both stepped closer, one to her back, on right in front of her.

"I would, yes." It was a solemn trait, to give her word and make honor of it.

She could feel him behind her. He was close but not touching her. Her skin had become over sensitive, reacting on its own accord to the proximity. She could feel shivers down her arms and hoped he wouldn't notice. But he was in front of her too, looking down at her with deep, emerald eyes. He was almost close to be touched. A sudden panic arose. Never had she been in such closeness with a man before. Feeling entrapped, she tried sidestepping him.

He caught her in time. He grasped her shoulders gently, pulling her back into his chest. He could feel the racing beating of her heart. It seemed almost audible in the night's silence. She was tense and awkward before him. Panting slightly, she seemed to be trying to keep her body under control. But he could sense it. He could sense everything. How her breathing quickened, though she pretended to be calm.

The stillness had become heightened. She felt a chest at her back, pressing strong, masculine. His form towered over her. She looked straight ahead, afraid to make a move. Such an unfamiliar situation was the one she found herself in. Her eyes were cast down, embarrassed and distressed.

"Relax." He spoke softly. "I will not hurt you."

She felt his breath near her ear. It grazed her skin and a volatile shiver ran down her spine. It was painful. She was trapped in a myriad of new sensations and it made her uncomfortable to be pulled out of her comfort zone, where she had been calm and serene.

"I am trusting you." He spoke again. "Just be calm." He had to hide his smile. He had caused her panic. It really shouldn't be surprising. A young maiden less agreeable than others was bound to have little to no interaction with the male population. Fleetingly, he wondered if she'd ever been kissed before. It was quite possible, highly probable even, that she had not. His knew the effect he was having on her, though he doubted she even recognized it as such. The moment he had touched her, she had turned to stone; the little creature was encased in his hands, breathing rapidly, heart beating madly inside her chest. He could've smirked then at how her body had reacted to his touch, but he was not interested.

When she had composed herself, he leaned in again and whispered. "I am going to show you how to recognize me." His hand traveled down her arm and lightly pulled at her wrist, where her hands had been tightly clasped together. "Touch me."

She tensed up and refused to meet his eyes. He chuckled. "Kára, I am serious. Reach out and touch me."

Kára held up her trembling hand, slowly looking up at the grinning Loki in front of her. Extending her arm, she put a hand to Loki's arm. With a gasp, she jumped slightly, where Loki caught her back. Her hand trespassed the independent mirage of his forearm, right through. She did it again.

Wide eyed, she watched as the vision dissipated, completely disappearing before her. She slowly turned to Loki, still unsure of what to say.

He was searching her eyes, desperate for acknowledgment.

Something was dawning on her, as she switched back to her bouncy happiness in a matter of seconds. She touched his arm, solid and real beneath her hand. "Is this how I will know?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Although I can still become real back and forth. The one before you could've easily been the real me if I had chosen for it to be."

"You can shift?" Her mouth dropped open. "In between illusions, I mean?"

"Of course." He laughed at her incredulous face. "But I assure you, if you can't feel me there, then that's not the real me at the moment."

She stood for the longest time with her bewildered expression so exposed. He gave her a half smile. "It is late. Let me guide you home."

And she followed without a word.

* * *

They walked in silence for some time; Loki in calm eagerness and Kára deep in thought. His powers astonished her. Never had she seen such a display before in her life. Guarded at home, she had come to know everything in her land and it was all so familiar, it held no more invigorating charm.

And in just a few hours, her world had become a whirlwind of sights and sounds, of feelings and sensations too strange for her to completely grasp an understanding about them. She liked Loki. He could be a good friend, as he had trusted her already. Her nature made her trusting, no matter the situation. She believed the good in everything and everyone. And Loki had been good to her.

Kára had never been blessed with love. At some point in her life, she lamented her misfortune. Those had been dark days for her family, until an unexpected epiphany took over. Never after, had she lamented herself again. In contrast, she had counted her blessings as too many, family love and friendship being the two greatest ones. She cultivated her friendships like a woman in love cultivated her affection and growing bond.

She had to prove something, though, mostly to herself; that they could both trust one another. So nervously, she reached out.

Loki felt her small hand touching him. Her fingers were warm as they grazed the back of his hand, which hung limply at his side. He turned to her, confused by her sudden approach.

She was grinning at him, a childlike vulnerability in her eyes, so gentle, so endearing. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make certain it is you I'm walking next to."

They had reached the end of the path, right before a medium sized domed structure. The healing rooms. A wide arch pointed the entrance, a willowy curtain of the lightest cream covering the inside.

"Well, thank you, for guiding me." She laughed in a whisper. "I realize I've taken you from your own direction."

Loki nodded, aware that this was were they parted ways. "It was no inconvenience at all. I am glad I could assist you."

She was biting her lip, he noted with a slight fixation, seemingly at war with her thoughts.

"I would like to thank you." She began seriously. "I have seen much beauty in my home and land. I believe now, though, that what I've seen tonight will never be surpassed." A warm radiance had spread to her cheeks, painting them flushed. "You are probably used to so much praise with your skills, but I just wanted to tell you that. I haven't been so pleasantly surprised in a long time." She wrung her hands nervously in front of her, eyes dancing in the near darkness. He could barely see her face in the moonlight, but the shine in her eyes was there.

He was surprised to feel so much compassion, so much endearment for his new friend. She was vulnerable like a child and happy as one as well. Perhaps he felt so because she had said it. She had admitted to his impossible arrogance the beauty of his skill and praised him like no other.

He had no words for her.

Gently, he took her hand in his and kissed it. Her praise was his. "I do hope we see each other again, my friend."

She pulled her hand away, shying off into her shell. A bow and a smile and she walked back to the healing rooms, where her chambers waited. At the arch she called back, looking joyous. "I hope so too…Loki."

With a tiny wave and one last shy smile, she left him to his tumultuous thoughts. He walked back by the light of the moon, his own name on the ghost of her voice in his head.

* * *

**I'm sorry it took me longer to update. **

**Things have been crazy in between my career and trying to balance studying with writing/Loki. Oh, but who am I kidding? Loki always wins.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!**

**I'll come back soon with mooooore!**

**As always, reviews are GREATLY appreciated. **


	5. Ruined

**I am absolutely overwhelmed by the amazing feedback I've been getting for the story. I can't believe how many people are subscribing to the Story/Author Alerts. I'd love it if you guys could review! **

**Sincerely, though…**

**You guys ROCK!**

Masochismet: Of course I mention you! I thank all my reviewers, as it should be done. I deeply appreciate all the feedback!

M: Thank you so much! I'm curious, thought. What do I make her sound like? Not one of us, meaning that we'd jump his bones at the first opportunity we got?

Lbkali: Thank you! You're sweet!

Waterwaves: That's soo sweet, thank you! I know how you feel. I think at some point, as I'm imagining the scenes I feel like squealing too!

Kelsey: You're amazing, thank you! What is your tumblr username? I'd like to follow you too. Hope you like this chapter too!

**And noooow, to you own viewing pleasure…chapter 5!**

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Ruined**

* * *

Kára had settled into her new life and duties with some difficulty. Her days blended in a blur of work and diligent organization, everyday practically the same. Upon waking up, she had been given her own ward within the grounds to care for and keep in order, spending much of her time in it.

Her personal quarters were spacious enough. She discovered, with some lament, that they were more luxurious than those of her fellow healers, no doubt as a tribute to her station. She didn't like it. She would much rather belong in equal lifestyle than be cast out in luxuries. Folkvar, however, expected great attentions from the Allfather. It did not suit her, but to complain would be ungrateful, so she got on about her work with great dedication, earning her companion's respect shortly after she arrived.

Every ward in the healing grounds belonged to its healer, their care completely in their hands. Kára had found hers to be lacking in resources. It was an ample room with wide arches and airy towering windows. Everything looked clean but empty, with its walls a soft ivory and golden tinge. A few beds were placed in the far end of the room, each separated by a dividing wooden panel. To the far right, small steps led up to a tall dais upon which a pool of warm water was built. While tables, bookshelves and delicate carvings adorned the perimeter of the room, Kára felt it needed a homely touch. This, she had found, helped the injured recover faster and with better spirits.

The transformation took time and every day she arose early and left for bed late at night, never participating in the events of the realm. She had refused her handmaidens' help. The ward was hers and she wanted to be the only one working on it. It made her feel proud to look upon a hard day's work and see the slow but clear transformation.

Her own taste was plastered upon the walls. Taking considerate amount of time to decide the beautification, she had placed books of her preference randomly, willowy fabrics in strategic positions to be blown by the wind and flowers. Flowers in vases, flowers in dishes, flowers in every container her hands could find. Asgard was not lacking in beauty, at all. Its marvelous garden has provided with the aesthetics necessary, as well as herbs and plants needed for the balms, salves and ointments, which she would eventually need.

When her ward was ready to tend to Asgardians, she had taken a few days off to find the plants and materials needed to stock up her space. The healing grounds were vast and resourceful and yet, some of the ingredients she needed were not found nearby. Traveling and exploring, she had found a small lake, surrounded by a valley of the greenest pastures. A neighboring mountain sheltered it and it was relatively close from the Hall of Odin for her to travel at freely. It had taken a few trips, but at last her ward was full and ready to serve.

Ailing Asgardians, however, had preferred the known methods of the residing healers. Her first few days had been so uneventful, she had grown desperate enough to ask her companions to allow her to assist them. And they tended to their own sick people so well, there really was nothing else to be done or help with.

So she had roamed the halls aimlessly until she had been called. A small child was ill. She had rushed him to one of the beds in her ward, quickly discarding his clothes and covering him with clean clothes. The feverish temperature of his skin was rising higher and higher. Kára had studied this before. It seemed, the lands neighboring Asgard had abundant water, but were not very hygienic. There was no poverty, but the conditions in which some people lived were dreadful, being discarded by some of the elitist residents. They didn't mind. It was the life they had known, but Kára had seen the dangers of this. So when the small child was brought before her, she wasn't surprised to find only she could suspect the conditions of his every day life.

He was whimpering, slipping in and out of consciousness. His parents had paced the ward, alarmed and frightened. Their angry voices carried anger, blaming the healers for the inability to care for their child. Kára, ignoring the confrontation, started to tend to the sleeping child immediately. She took wet, cold compresses and applied them to his forehead. In the candlelight, she smashed, crushed and chopped herbs and minerals, preparing a small vial with an amber liquid. With more courage than she actually had in herself, she called the anxious parents and directed them step-by-step through everything she was doing, indirectly asking permission to feed the poor boy with her concoction. She patiently explained the conditions in which their small child had gotten himself into, quickly referring to the books she had. It was a peaceful moment after, when they had apologized and allowed her to pass the brew through the boy's lips. After much struggle to make him swallow, he had gone limp. Kára stood by his and his parents' side, ever so often inspecting his skin, his tongue, his heart. The boy had recovered two days after his entrance to the ward.

And word had spread. Grateful parents are marvelous people, so kind and considerate, ever thankful. Within a few weeks, Kára's ward was full with children. She had never tended to so many children before, and in some ways, she was still very inexperienced. Her fear of doing something that could compromise their health was almost palpable, but she hid it well and studied.

On her few days of freedom, she had gone to the Hall of Odin, seeking permission to use the large volumes in the ancient archives. It had taken several tries and concrete evidence that she needed the knowledge the books contained, but the Archives Master relented in the end.

Needless to say, Kára had been busy. She hadn't seen any of her new friends in weeks. Not having known them for long, she didn't precisely miss them. But she missed company.

She sighed softly. Her days had passed in a blur, fogging her every day actions into a routine. It was something she enjoyed, certainly, but too much of something can be disastrous.

She considered joining one of the lesser halls for last meal, but quickly thought against it. She knew no one and the other ladies had their regular company that wouldn't be broken to include a stranger with an awkward attitude.

That's how she came to be where she was. Kneeling on the ground, sorting out the plants she didn't need but wanted for a lack of better things to do. Dirty and sweaty, she meticulously analyzed the leaves of a plant. This she needed. She discarded others, being poisonous or useless. It was still early and the sun cast out a bright light on the valley, the surrounding trees glistening in an array of greens.

She thought she could heart sounds in the distance throughout morning, but nothing alarmed her until they started drawing near.

It was a booming laugh, a bit taunting, mostly joyful.

"Let's gamble, then! I dare anyone who can stop me."

Instantly recognizing the voice as Thor's, she hurried to her feet. With a mental groan of embarrassment, she tried to clean her hands, which were disgracefully dirty. Her plain dress was tainted with dark spots where she had kneeled. Mortified, she quickly rubbed the cleanest part of her hands on the dress, trying to make it more presentable. Of course, she couldn't count much on the fates to aid her.

"Kára!"

She stilled with a pained looked on her eyes. _Too late._ Plastering a smile on her face, she waved back to the group of warriors quickly approaching her.

"Goodness!" Sif had reached her first. "I almost thought you had gone back home. We have missed you."

"I, too, have missed you." She admitted. "It has been very lonely."

Thor stood with a worried look on his face. "Have you not been treated well?"

"Oh, no, no!" Kára corrected. "I have been treated marvelously. Everyone has been very kind and accommodating. You should be proud of the hospitality of your people. I have just been working tirelessly." She pointed to her small basket, full of flowers and plants. "There always seems to be work to do."

Thor's face relaxed. He was quite devoted to his kingdom and anything that might raise an offense against it, needed to be looked after.

"I am very glad to see you all." It was true, she was. Seeing them so suddenly gave her no chance for her anxiousness to ensue, for which she was grateful.

"You should come with us." Sif grabbed her hands, excitedly.

"I do not want to interrupt any activities."

Fandral quickly cut off Kára's hesitant sentence. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, causing her to have to walk besides him. "Nonsense! I am sure we can provide you with interesting activities. We're practicing. Perhaps we can interest you in a friendly duel?"

She laughed good-naturedly. "Forgive me, Fandral. I do not duel. At all." She stressed her point with much vigor. "I wouldn't even know how to hold a sword if my life depended on it."

"Well," He sounded delighted. "I can personally instruct you. It's extremely easy. I will teach you how to hold it steady." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, causing a choke to erupt.

Kára looked over at Sif for help, who rolled her eyes and slapped his arm away. "Lay off, Fandral. She's not one of your harlots."

"Relax, fearsome lady Sif." He laughed. "I was merely making a jest! Even Kára thought it funny."

"She did not! It was a disgusting comment."

"Now, my friends." Volstagg's deep voice, admonished them. "Preserve some of that bickering for the duel. I do believe you will need it."

"Oh, please. If it were not for Thor here, I would be besting you all and have you call me master!" Fandral's exaggerated resonance was enough to make anyone see he was not serious, making Thor chuckle.

"Let us see what you are made of, Fandral the Dashing, or are you only words?" Thor was upon him now, playfully towering over him.

They continued their bickering while Kára walked behind them, with Sif at her side whispering animatedly. It only occurred to her then how much she had missed having company. She had thought about Loki often, of course, but her mind became so quickly occupied with her duties. Inexplicably, she thought of him at nights, when she could almost feel a very masculine chest press up against her back. She's wake up feeling frustrated and confused.

Now, as she walked with the warriors, her thoughts went back to him, wondering if he would come.

* * *

He was staring out the window, the sunrise bright on the floor, heavy drapes cloaking the rest of the room. In the partial darkness he could feel her, raking nails down his bare back.

He felt a shiver run down his neck.

"Come back to bed, lover." Her sultry voice beckoned him to her. It always did.

He could feel her nude body rising off the bed, slithering to press against his back. Her breasts were soft and warm against his cool skin. She kissed his neck with eagerness.

He flinched slightly.

He had taken her so many times before, always willingly. She was beautiful. Her radiant flaming hair fell on delicate tresses down her back. With wide, turquoise eyes she captivated him, and he craved her, like a starved beast.

He spared a glance in her direction. She was sprawled on his bed, a smile of manipulative allure so perfectly shaping her lips. She was perfect. And he deluded himself to believe she was his. Because no matter how many lovers the other took, she always came back to him as he did to her.

Something was odd. He could feel it. They way she said his name, the way she breathed down his neck.

"You need to leave." His own voice sounded foreign to his ears.

She mused a sultry laugh. "Now, lover, do not be cross with me. I will be good now, I promise." She licked his ear.

He had to turn his head away. He felt dirty, indecent. He closed his eyes and someone's eyes looked back at him. Eyes of the deepest brown with wide look of pure innocence reached him. His eyes flew open and he cursed.

He stood, angrily tossing the sheets aside. "Get out."

She glared at him, used to his volatile moods in the bedroom. "Such courtesy you offer." She was angry. No matter whom she laid down with, he was hers and she loved it. Loved it so that she felt like hurting him for casting her out.

He was a sarcastic laugh. "Surely, you're jesting."

Her naked body was up and about, eyes hungrily making their way down his body. "You lust after me, Loki. You cannot deny it. I see it." She donned a robe over her body, ready to depart.

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "So many lust after you and you open your legs for every single one of them."

Her gaze was furious. "You will ask me to take you back into my bed." Her pale skin was so close to him and he felt no desire to touch it. She eyed him up. "And if you do not, I am certain Thor will satisfy me better."

He grabbed her shoulders violently and pushed her against his door. Oh, how she loved this. Her taunting words knew exactly where to hurt him and she relished in the reaction she was rewarded with. She loved him like this, violent, passionate and fierce. He was a most satisfying companion, one she wasn't going to give up easily.

"Get out." He tone was dangerously low, deadly. His eyes pierced her own and she felt a jolt of fear. She pushed past him. A glare of her own was the last thing he saw.

He sighed, racking a hand through his hair. He knew she had known exactly where to hurt him. But her words still stung. Always second best. Always to be compared. He laughed bitterly. It seemed so odious to be compared in the intimacy of a lover's embrace. But she had done it.

He inhaled deeply and grimaced. The air was heavy with her smell and the aftermath of their activities. He closed his eyes, pressing his head against the cool wall. Her eyes reached him again, so different from the turquoise ones he adored, so very different.

"So very different." He whispered into the nothingness of his room.

He needed to get out. He felt like fighting, channeling his dissatisfaction into excessive brutality. He needed to find his brother and he knew exactly where to go.

* * *

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	6. Irrational

**Buuuh, you guys must absolutely hate me for last chapter, huh? **

**I got FAR less reviews than normal, so I take it you all did not like Loki being with another girl. I totally understand, but it will be good, I promise!**

**Sorry if you didn't like it! It is a necessary evil, for the moment at least. **

**Hopefully this new chapter will redeem myself in your eyes. Please, please, please review!**

Kelsey: That's perfectly alright! I love your comments! I don't believe Thor will go beyond a friendship with Kára. He's TOO busy falling into his role as future king. Exactly! That's the basis of this…to Kára, Loki is not seconds best…but let's see how this chapter suits Loki…THANK YOU!

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Irrational**

* * *

He found them without much difficulty. Loki knew the warrior's schedule. He had long been training with them occasionally, as their fighting style did not suit him well.

In some ways, Loki felt he did not belong with the people of Asgard. His thoughts were superior to their simple-minded brawls and fighting. Strength was raw and brutal, as was their way, but he had never been extremely good at those fighting techniques. Instead, he had developed new ways to defend himself and deliver swift attacks, at a distance. He could fight one on one, of course. But distance gave him an advantage. He was still a fierce opponent, just not a warrior per se.

His thoughts had been to dark as of late, too inadequate. Shaking his head, he walked along the expanse of the valley where the warriors usually trained.

Their loud laughs made them easy to find. He could recognize Fandral's flamboyant attitude, Sif's fierce cries, Volstagg's booming clashes, even Hogun's silent blows. But it was his brother, he could most easily recognize. Deep voiced, his fame in battle was well placed, as he was indeed the strongest warrior. He could easily thwart anyone's advances on him, the faithful Mjölnir by his side. But there was more to his brother than just that. With confidence, which bordered on arrogance, he could frighten and command armies. He was so certain and self-assured of his place in the kingdom, it was hard not to follow him.

Loki both hated and admired this. He hated it because he envied it. He admired it because despite the jealousy he often felt, he looked up to his brother, in younger years and now. And it pleased Loki when he praised him. To have something his brother could applaud of him made all the jealousy, all the covetousness fade, and it would fade into the simple brotherly love they often shared.

It was not surprising, then, that what he saw delivered a small blow of betrayal to his chest. He halted by the shadow of a tall tree, partially hidden.

Down by the valley, near the rocks where they used to play as a child stood the warriors with Kára standing by their side.

Thor had left Mjölnir atop a rock and was holding a small sword, delivering exemplary blows to a cooperative Sif. He kept turning to the small girl, instructing on how to use the sword and she was looking with avid attention, sometimes mirroring his movements. Volstagg and Hogun ocassionally commented, but Fandral was most encouraged. She took the sword in Thor's hand and gave it to Kára, who took it.

He was holding her now, from behind. He took her arms in each of his and made her move in offense. She looked clumsy in her simple dress, holding a sword like that. But she laughed at herself and Fandral insisted. So she did too. A few weak blows into Sif and Thor had to take charge. He was much larger than the Dashing warrior and efficiently covered for his position at Kára's back.

It was irrational, completely senseless, that he suddenly felt betrayed. He came closer to them, walking morosely. He could see her more clearly now…laughing cheerfully. He saw, with illogical bitterness, the way she looked up at the warriors, praise on her face, impressed, amazed. He felt deceived, by his own thoughts, that he deluded himself to believe she had looked up at him first, admired him first, and gazed dazedly at him first. She had and took it away from him. And his dark thoughts came back, further angering him.

For weeks, he had relied solely on her simple praise, so easily acquired, to keep him satisfied. It had made him think, for a moment, that Asgard could indeed, look up at him and they would, in time, favor him as the wiser prince. He had his confidence restored, inducing him in very devious activities, including taking Freyja into his bed.

He was strangely expectant for the next time he would see her again, and she would fall over back for his abilities. He had seen her like that, in his mind's eye.

He had not imagined her idolizing other, though. A feat for hit possessiveness, he wanted to damage her for this, excusing her as a simple-minded creature, dull and easily impressed by anything and everything. He saw her with antipathy, displaying her in his mind with fowl descriptions. So many things plagued his thoughts and he wanted to hurt her as he felt.

"Brother!" Thor called out to him, jovially. "We have been wondering when you'd make an appearance."

He stepped into the group, smirking slightly. "Have you? I have been busy." He replied vaguely.

Kára had seen him approach, a small smile on her lips and eyes alight with gladness. He looked just as she remembered. She had smiled at him excitedly, like welcoming a friend who had been lost for so long.

"Kára." He acknowledged her with a curt, dispassionate nod. "I see you have been enjoying my brother's education."

Knocked back by the sudden coldness in his gaze, she was hesitant to respond. "I have." She started slowly, looking curiously at him. "Fandral and Sif have been most instructive, as well."

He smiled mockingly. "I am sure they have." Eyeing her up and down, he gave her a dismissive look.

She was numb. Had everything changed in the last few weeks? Overall, she knew she did not know him enough to presume things about him, but he had been so charming, so very gentle to her. It was inconceivable to think this prince could be the same as the one who had kindly helped her back home.

She had been waiting for him to arrive. Thor hinted he might join them, thought it did not happen often. Of them all, she had missed him the most. She would often feel a warm chest press against her back in the dark hours of the night in remembrance to their first encounter. She had hoped he would show her more magic; perhaps even offer his assistance to her cause. But this was not him.

He looked pitiless and ill-tempered.

Thor, completely unaware of the vicious display, slapped his brother on the shoulder. "Kára does not seem to favor the sword, little brother."

Kára, who had been immersed in her curious inspection of Loki, snapped back to the older prince, embarrassed by his fact. "Combat does not suit a healer, Thor. It hurts me to hurt another physically."

"Is that so?" Sif wondered. "That is very curious. I have never felt that."

The healer nodded, suddenly aware of eyes on her. "It is, at some level I believe, empathy. Whenever I hear you hit Thor or Fandral, or any of you each other, the body part you bruise becomes numb and uncomfortable in my own body." Sheepishly, she chuckled. "I do not really know how to explain it."

"Physically, you say?" Loki mused. "And spiritually? Mentally? Does it hurt you to hurt another that way?"

She did not like the look he was giving her. It was smug and far too understanding for her liking. Confused, as she did not know what he meant exactly, she tried to reply. "I suppose so. Though I would never want to hurt anyone intentionally." She was alarmed by the way his eyes bore into hers, despise evident on his face.

She was not courageous enough to confront him. She wanted to ask if she had done something to offend him, to insult him. Because the looks he was giving her were almost murderous.

"Must be the weakling in you." Thor laughed fondly. "I'll say, you still need to find a way to defend yourself, like Sif. If you cannot hold a sword, perhaps my brother can show you how to handle the daggers. He is most accomplished in it."

Loki did not take notice of his brother's compliment. He was too focused on making her feel some discomfort, pay a price for what he thought was rightfully his. It did not make much sense, but in his mind it was perfectly clear.

Kára had looked at him, a small hope in her eyes at the mention of his instruction. She smiled gently and he hated it at that moment, because it was the very same look she had first given him, the very same look she did to Fandral, Sif and Thor. Nothing was ever for him alone, and he hated it.

With a breathy sigh, he spoke. "No. That would not suit me. I cannot waste time on training inadequate incompetence."

Ah, the blow had been delivered, he noted with some satisfaction.

Her smile was slowly fading, a hurt look in her eyes. Her wide, brown eyes, so deep and näive, flashed with sudden distress and it reminded him of the way he had seen them in his mind, after his encounter with Freyja.

"Now, my friend," Fandral had approached him, carefully. "Do not be so harsh. Kára can put a lot of effort, can you not, Kára."

Kára, who had been trying to compose herself, flashed them a smile, too bright to be considered sincere. "Oh, it is alright, Fandral. Of course, I wouldn't want to burden prince Loki. As I said, I am unfit for battle. And that reminds me I have to go." She was being a coward, but she did not care much for it right now. "I have to bring my gatherings to the healing Master, and I would hate to think someone could not be healed properly because of lack of resources." It was easy to make an excuse and part her way.

Quickly, she gathered her belongings and set off back home, ignoring the protests of her friends. With a small smile, she promised she would meet them again and that they were welcome to visit her. She did not dare look a Loki, for if she did, the pain in her eyes would be so evident and she still had her pride.

Loki watched her leave with a growing feeling of dread. No matter how much she tried to hide it, the hurt in her expression was evident to him, to anyone. She was that open with her feelings, it seemed. It did not satisfy him to have hurt her, like he though it would have done.

"Brother," Thor's stern voice commanded him. "That was harsh and uncalled for."

"It was no less true." He justified.

Sif was giving him a dirty look. "Why she would keep asking about you, it baffles me. She kept wondering if you would come join us today and you did only to cause her discomfort." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "It was cruel and detestable. How could you have been so hateful?"

Loki did not hear past the part where she mentioned Kára has asked about him. Ignoring her, he turned to his brother. "Is it true she asked about me?"

Thor nodded. "Indeed. It would appear she's a bit infatuated with your magic, little brother. She said she would rather watch you do magic, than have us teach her fight." Gravely, he continued, "I do believe you owe her an apology."

Loki huffed. Outside his pride commanded him not to show it, but inside a gnawing feeling was growing. _Guilt_. His past encounters with Freyja and others had left him volatile and explosive. It did not occur to him, until now, how his daily relations further affected his life. He had been angry with himself, at Freyja, at Thor, feeling so lost that he had taken it out on the one person who had been most unaware and most unconsciously willing to receive the blow. It had been the perfect prey and the most unsatisfying one.

But she had asked about him. This was most rewarding and satisfying. Though now she probably would not speak to him for a while. _That will not do. _

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

He needed to set things right. Everything right in his life. And she was the simplest way to start.

* * *

Kára tried with impressive effort not to cry. A few angry tears had slipped past her eyelashes, but she furiously wiped them away.

She would not cry.

The pang in her heart was heavy. But she had already felt that, long before, and she promised she would never again be affected that way. He was a prince, a very busy prince with better things on his mind and time than her.

This is how she protected herself, and she had failed to do that with him. So overwhelmed by the beauty of his skills, she had marveled at him, entirely trusting, as she had always been. As she would continue to be, no matter the circumstance.

Her compassionate nature did not plant bitterness in her heart, only caution for future situations.

She ad expected too much of the young prince and this was the price to pay.

So she settled. Settled for that attitude and her circumstance on Asgard. She went about the next day with diligence, keeping busy. The children needed her and this was her duty.

Later that night, her handmaidens gone, she proceeded to her chamber, a bit low in spirits but determined nonetheless to look upon the dying day with joy.

Closing the door behind her, she halted. Upon her bed, there was a big bundle of the deepest red. Her handmaidens had told her a package had been delivered for her today, so she was not entirely surprised. She had thought it had been sent from home, her actual home. Smiling, she thought of her family.

Upon closer inspection, however, she knew the fabrics enveloping the actual present, did not belong to her realm. Curiously, she undid the binding, folding fabric after fabric aside. Soft and luxurious, they teased her skin with growing expectancy.

Finally she reached a reached a richly decorated leather case. Opening it, she found a beautiful set of daggers, displaying themselves with impressive superiority. Mouth open, she barely dared touch them. The hilts on each of them were adorned with precious jewels, their different colors dancing on the candlelight. It was bedazzling.

There was a note inside, too. She was hesitant to read it, because somehow she knew whom it was from. Her stomach gave a painful lurch, but she read.

_Lady Kára,_

_Please accept this gift with my deepest apologies. I am appalled by the way I behaved and beg you to meet me tomorrow for your first lesson._

It was not signed but she knew it was from him. Looking upon the expensive gift, she bit her lip, unsure if she would meet him tomorrow…or not.

* * *

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**On a note: Freyja, Loki's female...ahem, companion, is NOT the goddess of beauty. She was named after her, because of her extreme beauty. I just really like that name and wanted to use it.**

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**Love you all!**


	7. Disoriented

**First of all, I want to apologize for the longer delay with this chapter. Real life wanted to give me a good kick in the butt to get me to study for my finals. I rebelled for a bit... Hehehe.**

**I am absolutely overwhelmed!**

**I know I've told you guys this before but…you are all AMAZING!**

**41 reviews! Can you believe it?**

**As promised and with my deepest gratitude, this chapter is slightly longer than the others. Loki and Kára's interaction might seem a bit confusing but it will all turn out in the end, I promise!**

**Hopefully you guys will like it!**

Smokingflowers: Oooh, isn't he just so wonderful! I love the complexity of his character. Thank you so much for reviewing!

MissM: Here you go, sweetie! Sorry I took so long to update!

Xxxxxxxxx: Thank you so much! =)

KJ: Hahaha your review made me laugh! I totally understand. Yes, I do see Loki that way too. Oooh it seems Freyja will be coming back for a bit of a payback…

Anon: ooh, thank you! You're wonderful! I'm sorry my story made you late for work. I promise some hot stuff ahead! This may start off a slow and a bit confusing, since both character are very complex but hopefully they will find each other in end. I've thought about doing a Hawkeye/Natasha! I do believe I need to do more research on those characters before I venture into their minds. =) Thank you!

Kyleeishere1: Thank you SO very much! I keep thinking of the things that could be going through his mind and I'm so happy so many people like it so far. Hopefully I can keep doing him justice! And Kára as well. Your reviews was most detailed and I thank you so much for it! It's very encouraging. I'm very sorry I couldn't update as soon this time. Finals have caught up with me and I'm so behind on my studies. But I'll try to have another chapter this weekend!

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Disoriented**

* * *

Loki was upset.

He knew he had no right to. He had, after all, expected this. It was a surprise, however, that it still stung.

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon just as a blanket of stars started to paint the dark sky. He sighed into the night. Looking out through the arched wide windows of the training grounds, he could feel the realm's activities subdued.

He had been waiting for quite some time, but Kára had not made an appearance. It hardly came as a surprise. He had insulted her greatly and intentionally. He tried to appear to her seemingly endless understanding, presenting her with a most expensive gift, hoping she would forgive him with something as simple as that. Really, though, how was she supposed to understand the reason behind his volatile behavior change? It was obvious her good nature had a limit and she was not so quick to forgive.

All of a sudden his gift felt cold and impersonal, a shallow apology. Of course it wasn't believable that he felt truly sorry. An apology to such an offence needed to be warm, sincere, with a quality such as to counteract his scornful insult.

Running a hand through his hair, he cursed under his breath.

Loki did not usually apologize. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he offered an honest apology to anyone. He usually let the grudge grow. It did not matter to him. He wondered if she held a grudge against him. If she had known him better and his insults had been repeatedly over time, she probably would.

Having no idea where to start from, he simply turned and walked out of the room, directing himself to the healing grounds with haste.

* * *

Kára was, among her many flaws and qualities, a coward.

This was not a realization of self-pity or misery. This was not feeling sorry for herself or a justification.

This was a fact.

Her heart thumped uncomfortable in her chest as she looked out the ward's windows. The sun was setting, fast. She had missed the time of the meeting requested by Loki, intentionally and unintentionally.

Her cowardice, laced with extreme pride did not make a good combination when faced with confrontation.

She had avoided any sort of contact with Loki throughout the day and locked herself in the ward, which thankfully provided distracting work and a haven.

She was infuriated; angry at him, at her vulnerability, and at her hopeful expectations. Anger did not suit her and she hated feeling that way. It didn't work well with her usual tranquility and her duties suffered because of it, not to mention her own conflicted soul. Kára didn't have the ability to separate her everyday labor from the things that plagued her mind.

She didn't like having Loki on her mind. No after what he had said about her. Confused, she had deviated from being hurt to being angry all morning.

Kára was disconcerted and a little alarmed by his inconsistent matter of behavior. Well, perhaps not inconsistent. After all, she did not know him at all to draw a pattern about him. A night of trust did not mean much, especially after weeks of absence.

Still, after playing her actions over and over again, she had yet to find something that could've caused such a reaction in him. At first she thought it was something she had done, something she had said. But there was no such situation. Nothing had happened. They had not even seen each other. It was very illogical. She could only assume it was him. Perhaps he was changeful and mercurial.

She felt hurt the most as she had expected her next encounter with Loki to be quite opposite. His harsh insult had no justification, no reason behind it and she simply couldn't understand why he would treat her so. Next, she would think of his words, feeling her self-esteem clench in defense. And then, anger came.

_I am not incompetent. _Taking a knife in her hands, she chopped some roots with unnecessary violence.

So many years at home, she had wondered her own worth. Years of feeling low and different in comparison to her sisters and other girls had forced her to take a path out of many. Very unaware of it, she proved her own courage and stood proud as daughter of Folkvar, noble lady and healer of ever growing skill. An epiphany was all she had needed and never again did she allow anyone to bring her down.

His gift had been very thoughtful, but it was customary to keep good relations with the noble ladies. A trifle, really, as opposed to a broken alliance, such and expense was nothing. Last night, she had kept the daggers in the leather case and wrapped it again in the many incredible fabrics. She had placed it in her vanity and that's where it had stayed.

She would not go, she had decided. Not precisely out of revenge, because she assumed he did not care about it. She would not go because she was too busy.

With a grimace, she thought of how prosaic her excuse was.

Truthfully, Kára felt very much a coward and very much a dignified, stubborn lady. She didn't think she could face him. At least not when the insult was very fresh, the confusing wound still open. Vaguely, she thought of demanding an explanation, but her timid heart prevented such a notion to take place.

Too many thoughts ran through her mind and she did not like it. She had never been conflicted by a man before, having had little experience with them.

In the end, she had come to only one comprehension: she knew nothing about prince Loki. That alone was enough to make her exhausted. It was exhausting trying to make out the character of a person after only one conversation.

Kára shook her head. She was dwelling on thoughts that did not belong to this time or place.

"Kára?" A timid, small voice called out from behind a panel.

"I'm coming, Hákon." She called back. She grabbed the bowl of brew she had been preparing and walked to one of the beds in her ward, occupied by a young boy.

He was her excuse.

Unintentionally she had not gone to meet Loki because she had suddenly gotten a little boy under her care. An infection, no doubt. She had seen many in her little time in Asgard. It was not uncommon and children fell victims to it, because of their still immature body. This little boy in particular had a worse case of it and had been required to stay at the ward, where he could be under Kára's constant vigilance.

"How are you feeling?" She brushed hair out of the boy's forehead, coming to sit on his bed.

He mustered a small whimper. "Tired."

Kára felt sorry for the boy. There was something about watching a child's usually joyful face subdued into pain and suffering that brought her out of her reverie.

"I know." She spoke softly. "You need to drink this. It will make you feel better." The boy shook his wheat colored head and she sighed. "There had to be something I can do to get you to drink it."

Hákon scrunched his face for a moment, deep in thought. "You could tell me a story."

"A story?" She looked into his eyes, with playful doubt. "And you'll drink it? Do you promise?"

His head bobbed up and down, eager eyes looking more alight than she had seen them all day.

"Alright, then. But drink first."

He swallowed the brew with difficulty. Kára had to admire the boy. It really did taste awful. She gave him a spoonful of honey afterwards, to counteract the bitterness of the roots. "Wonderful, Hákon. You are so brave!" she complimented him. "Now, which story would you like me to tell you?"

Hákon grinned sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

"You don't know?" Kára feigned shock. "I suppose I'll have to come up with one myself, huh?"

Oh, he was so cheeky, nodding his head excitedly. With that innocent face, there was no way she would deny him. Faking defeat, she stood up and took a dramatic pose in front of the bed. "It all started many years ago…"

* * *

Loki's walk towards the healing grounds was uneventful. So uneventful, in fact, that he had not come up with anything to say, other than he was sorry.

Being a prince of Asgard, he walked through the thin veiled entrance to the wards and was immediately directed towards Kára's. No questions were asked, no explanations were needed and discretion was an admirable healer feature.

She was farthest from the entrance, a secluded courtyard separating her from the others. Lanterns attached to the outside walls lighted it, casting a soft glow across the grass, reflecting on the pond that sat in its middle. He could hear a fountain playing its tinkling water, but could not see the source. He crossed the stepping-stones across a large patch of grass with light trepidation, shrubs and small trees guiding his way.

Her ward was veiled too, its fabric falling still in the absence of a breeze. A voice fell on his ears, growing louder with every step he took. She was changing her tone from deep to shrill, from high to dense. He could almost see her, her outline seen through the waspy curtain.

She was moving all around, stabbing, jumping, falling. A child's laughter accompanied her movements with merry resonance.

He was finally there. He could see her, apparently enacting a story about an overweight knight with a knack for clumsiness. She was the princess, she was the knight, she was the villain and the mouse. He leaned against the archway silently. She had not noticed him. It was obvious because she kept rolling around, walking and reciting dramatic monologues.

A gnawing guilt crawled its way into his chest. How could he have hurt her? She was a child in a woman's body. She was jubilant. He could see the way she cared for the boy, who was apparently ill, the way she tried to make him so happy, the way it seemed to radiate off her in waves of strong pursuit. It almost hurt him. He thought of a lion and a lamb, an innocent lamb left as sacrifice to a broken lion.

"And there it was! A mighty giant of fire and stone." Kára stood tall, her voice deep and dangerous. All of a sudden she was slouching. "And the knight was frightened but he had found the key to defeat it. Just then..." She glanced at Hákon who had grown shy unexpectedly. Worried, she wondered if maybe she had gone too far with her dramatics. "What's wrong, love? Have I frightened you?"

"I do believe I am to blame for that."

Kára whirled around, panic rising in her chest. Her heart thumped madly. He was standing in all his glory, looking remorseful. Slightly less intimidating, she noted, as his clothes had changed to more informal garbs. It seemed inevitable that they should talk now, when he had come to find her. At least, that's why she thought he'd come. "Hákon," She spoke delicately. "It's time for bed."

The little boy was quick to protest. "But the story is not over yet." He whined.

"I know, little one." Kára explained. "But it is late and you're sleepy. No, don't try to deny it. I can see you yawning."

Loki was feeling like intruding a very private moment. She was tickling him and he was laughing with utmost trust in his eyes. She whispered a few words and in a minute he was tucked in bed, safe and warm in her care.

"Prince Loki." She addressed him. "What can we do for you?"

He supposed he deserved it. The slight indifference in her voice. It was a suitable punishment. Kára was not, however, punishing him. She was just masking herself. It was only natural to act that way, when she did not really know the appropriate way to act.

He cast his eyes downward, breathed out, and met hers with determination. "You did not attend your class." How completely irrelevant, how odious to think he was silver-tongued. It felt more like old rust to him.

His statement took her aback. She had at least expected him to start with something less blunt. She looked confused. "We have been very busy, your grace and it is my duty to remain here."

He was supposed to be apologizing. Instead, he was sizing her up and oh, how sweet it felt to discover a lie in her lips. It gave him the advantage.

His presence was alarming. Perhaps this was best, she thought. A quick remedy to an open wound didn't give her time or thought to over analyze the situation. It would scare her further. It was easier to keep busy than to look into his eyes. Though they had appeared emerald, they now looked a deep blue, laced with green. With a small shake of her head, she realized how over appreciative she was being of his eye color, of his entire being. It made her feel vulnerable and exposed. Grabbing the bowl and spoon out of Hákon's bedside table, she walked further on into the ward, to a kitchen of sorts.

"Kára." Loki couldn't delay it. It was senseless to do so. "I feel I should apologize." And he couldn't say more…he was paralyzed. It was strange and curious that he had never had problems with words before.

She stopped her ministrations on the brews. This was her only chance. "I forgive easily." She confessed. "I could forgive you easily if I only understood what provoked such an offense."

What could he say? If he told her the truth, he risked being ridiculed. The truth didn't make sense and it was no good to go there. If he lied…well, he didn't feel like lying to her. It was a poor payment.

Kára was looking at his troubled face. He seemed to be struggling, but if he could not give her a straight answer, perhaps this wasn't worth it. She would forgive him and end the association. Peace is what she needed. She grabbed the bundle that was her gift and placed it atop the table. "Your gift was most beautiful." She said and he could see an almost desolate kind of sadness in her eyes. "But I cannot accept it."

Loki felt a hollow pit on his stomach. He was being rejected. She was not giving him a cold look, but her gaze was not full of sympathy either, perhaps because at the moment he was glaring at her. "Why not?" he blurted out. "It is a very fine gift. Anyone would feel honored to have this." His own words sounded clumsy to his ears. They were vain, because at times he felt vain, like he was superior. It was odd to feel this way. So timid and bare, past her calculating look. She was judging him.

She was not trying to be cruel, honestly. He had insulted her dignity, her very being and it was only right that she stand up for herself. "I do not want to waste your time, your grace." She had turned, a slight edge on her voice. "I am sure there are many matters that require your attention. It would not be right to waste such precious hours teaching incompetent pupils." She did not want to appear scornful, but how poisonous she sounded.

Loki was annoyed that she could use his words so effortlessly to breathe guilt deeper in him. But it was so easy to read her. She was hurt. She was hurting much more than she was mad at him. "Kára," he reached out, a sudden urge to touch her hair, compelled his hand to move forward, landing instead on her shoulder. "I am sorry. I am."

His hand was warm, the weight of it feeling comforting on her shoulder. She could hear a slight desperation in his voice, the kind a broken promise could bring. It was truthful, his apology. It was personal and gentle, as it was supposed to be. "I know you are." She said and sighed. "I spent all morning thinking about you."

Her confession made his chest swell. Loki was no innocent man. He had heard confessions of a more brazen nature and whispered words of need. This, however, felt like something pure and precious was being given to him, though he could not understand what exactly.

"It's confusing." Kára chuckled without humor. "I do not understand what it is that I could've done to deserve such words."

He could not tell her. The reasons behind it were illogical and absurd. How could he explain the lifetime admiration he had felt from her and suddenly taken away? It was possessive and selfish. She would run from him, run like the scared little mouse from her story.

"I cannot explain." He spoke softly, adept in hiding his tones. "Perhaps one day I will tell you. I…I feel I need to figure it out myself."

Kára shook her head. "That's not comforting."

She turned away from him and he reacted. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her back to him, quite adamant to not be rejected again. "Wait." His voice had come across as a whisper, and it sounded so broken, so full of need.

She felt she couldn't breathe. It was too much. His face was too close, much too close for comfort. Her arms had come to protect herself in the middle and they were pressed up against his chest.

"Look at me." He commanded softly.

She raised her eyes at him, barely concealing the flush in her cheeks.

He was searching her eyes, a silent plea communicating through his. "It has nothing to do with you. I feel I have not been myself lately and…you were the perfect target. I can only explain it thus at this time. Forgive me, I truly am sorry, I cannot give you further explanation. I was rude and unbecoming. You did not deserve such treatment."

He felt dangerous, with hands around her arms and his face so close to hers. She cleared her throat and he slowly released her. There was something wrong with the way he spoke. It sounded childish and secret and something else underneath it all. "I understand. If what you're saying is true, then I can understand it." She spoke shakily.

She felt suddenly very tired. She needed to rest. She would talk to him, but not now, not like this. "Loki, take the daggers. They're a wonderful present, but they could be in much better hands." He started to protest, but she cut him off quickly. "I do forgive you. You cannot hurt me easily." This felt like a lie to him, but he did not object. "I don't want to deal with this anymore. And honestly, I do not require gifts and trifles to keep me in your good association. I'll accept this matter closed, when you can tell me the real reason behind what you said about me."

She was looking at him with too much understanding in her gaze. He did not like that. At all. Such openness was a weakness. He needed to get out and fast. Inside his head, this was quickly getting out of control.

"I seem to have taken too much of your time and you have a young man in need of your attentions." He spoke formally, very unnecessarily.

The matter was not resolved, she knew. They were both exhausted and she wanted nothing more than to rest and deal with her thoughts in solitude, where she could convince herself again that he was a prince of Asgard and her infatuation was not surprising, but most unwise.

She nodded. She eyes him softly. "Take the daggers, Loki. They're yours."

He gave her a serious look. She was frail, she was kind and smart. His initial assessment of her character seemed to have given him only the first layer to her being and it was perplexing the way he wanted to keep peeling her off, to know more. She was smiling at him and he hated how calm she was. She was supposed to be suffering because of him. His apology was supposed to have her drop into his arms, unrestrained.

He needed to do something. He hated her purity and naivety. He hated the way he was attracted to it. He was unworthy as was she. His thoughts betrayed him. It was frustrating.

"Kára." There was an edge to his voice, a furious determination attaching itself. "Keep the daggers, there might come a time when you'll need them. This is not over. You have a token for my apology. I will wait every day in the training grounds for you. Every day I shall be there. It's your right to keep me waiting, if you so wish it."

His promise was solemn. It was very much unlike him, and in the back of his mind, he loved it.

* * *

**So many new people have added this story to their Story Alerts and to their Favorite Storied. I'm deeply touched and appreciate this very much!**

**To all newcomers, welcome! Please leave a review, tell me what you think! I love hearing for you all.**

**To you old friends, welcome back! Hopefully you all liked this chapter. This confusion they're both feeling and how exhausting it is to deal with each other will become more clear later, I promise!**

**Reviews make me SO happy! Truthfully and I might need them more as Finals have decided to come kick my butt...not too hard, I hope. **

**As always, reviews a very much appreciated! I promise I will try my best to have another chapter up throughout the weekend. **

**=)**


	8. Beginnings

**Hello, everyone!**

**I'm sooo happy you've stuck with me throughout the story. I can't say this enough so I will say it again: THANK YOU!**

**So sorry I've been absent for so many days…phew! I knew this was going to be a hard week but I thought I'd have time to write…next week proves to be just as busy with two finals but after Thursday I'm completely yours!**

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R. M: Thank you so much! Oh, I know how you feel. His guilt was gnawing at my chest too. I just had to write it, though.

Shirleen: Aww, you really think so? Thank you SO much! You're very very sweet!

M: Thank you very much! I keep writing because of you guys who love this story so much. It is my encouragement. =)

Anaya: Thank you so much for a wonderful review! I wanted to explore Loki's personality before Thor, because God of Mischief was a title given to him, not so much as he wanted it. So I'm pleased so many people like the story! I'm so excited! Now that you mention it, I watch Tom Hiddleston's interviews because he seems to understand Loki so well and I use his assumptions and views on him to create this Loki. Hopefully it's accurate. Aww you're such a weetie! As soon as I'm donde with finals I'll put every effort into making longer chapters for you guys! Thank you!

Dani: Thank you so much! Indeed he is a lost soul. I have every intention to see this story to its end and then we'll have a sequel! YAY!

Cunning linguist: Thank you so much! That's exactly what I was going for with my OC. I normally don't read OC characters' stories, just because they don't reflect an actual personality on in depth character. They're just gorgeous, perfect and everyone likes them. So I'm absolutely thrilled by the positive feedback Kára has received. And thank you for the kind compliments on the dialogue, that's exactly what I was going for. Hahaha I laughed with your comment about Loki being an angsty virgin. Exactly, he's no angel. Thank you again!

The Impressionist: Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! Oh, I do hope you can forgive my typos. In my excited hurry to get a chapter out quickly I don't reread it. Yaay! I'm so happy you think Loki is in character. Definitely, he's a broken soul, wounded and there can be malice in everything he does. Hahah your last review had me smiling for hours! I fangirl over my own chapter too, can you believe it? Oh! I do have a tumblr…it's the same username: lilymarielle. Feel free to follow me! I'll follow you back. What is yours?

Anon: Thank you so much, darling! I will come back in a bit, after I'm all done with the horrible exams that keep me from writing. Ugh!

Kyleeshere1: Hey Kylee! Thank you so very much for another wonderful review. I myself had to hold my breath to deal with all the fangirling I was feeling when writing it! Oh, it's not weird at all that you googled synonyms! I use my thesaurus a lot! "The way I look at it is that you most certainly deserve my time in writing a good review, since you took the time to write such a masterpiece as this." This made me cry! Seriously, thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much I appreciate you taking the time to write such a thorough review. Precisely! Their thoughts and feelings are confusing, because this is out nature, and that's how we can relate and sympathize with the characters. I, myself, am waiting impatiently for the juicy stuff to start, trust me! I can't wait for this week to end and have my finals over and done with so I can come back to write full time. Hope you have a marvelous week! And thank you again! You're such a sweetie!

Theena.x: Thank you so much! Oh don't worry about it, it's the thought that counts. =)

Dasha: Thank you very very much! You're so sweet!

Shannon: So happy you like it, sweetie! I'm sorry for the long wait, but it's finally here!

Lizzi213: Thank you! Definitely, I truly believe the most insecure people, by taking them in the right direction with the right help, can become confident and fantastic, because those are the ones we ignore the most.

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Beginnings**

* * *

She had been determined not to go. Even with his remembrance of apology, his promise, she had been wary to attend. She had no business learning to fight. It was not necessary, at least not for her. And honestly, she had no talent for battle. She was not athletic, acrobatic or strong. Perhaps she could be if she trained, but she had never had that sort of conditioning before. As much as she would like to prove him wrong about her incompetence, she didn't see how.

As promised, he had waited. He had waited every day in training grounds for her. She knew because she had seen him. The affairs that required her presence in Odin's Palace had been very few and on such occasions when it was adamant that she visited the Archives, her path took her past the training grounds.

It was an ample room with a high ceiling and airy halls, full of targets and arrows, swords and figures made of sand and clay, each with the purpose of practice. Many warriors dueled there and it always seemed so busy, so full of people running, dashing, jumping, avoiding each other and clashing against each other.

At first she had failed to notice him as she passed through, but once she did, she could always see him standing around an area built for distance dueling. Anxiously, she walked past in a hurry, pretending not have seen him. Her heart pumped furiously, but she did not dare acknowledge that he was there and that it was her fault, so to speak, that he was.

It did not occur to her that perhaps he had seen her. He had waited not so patiently. It was only a matter of time. Apology as it was, Loki couldn't help turning to a subtle machination on his part. Even if he felt that there were more layers to her than he could observe, she was easy to read. He manipulated her so cunningly and precise, addressing her compassion by making her feel guilty. It worked beautifully. She would come. He just needed to be a bit more patient. He knew she had seen him and he would crawl into her mind; she would wonder and debate his distress and her conscience would turn on her. She would come.

But it was days later when Kára had finally had enough of feeling pressured. She would wake up, every day dreading the burden of his promise that felt so heavy on her. She did not want it. He had offered, yes, but it was not something she wanted. She thought perhaps he would abandon such ridiculous pact, but days later she still saw him there.

Frustrated, she had taken the leather box out of his wrappings and proceeded to the training grounds, determined to get this over with once and for all. Something akin to guilt was suffocating her, a worry that wouldn't go away. She ought to have felt greedily pleased with his discomfort but she was not comfortable with that. Hopefully, this would end it.

She had entered the high domed area, feeling impossibly awkward. The place was full of fierce and towering warriors, all of them far taller than her. Shifting through the sidelines she made her way towards the back of the room, where the space was emptier, giving way to a different kind of combat, much less popular than brutal strength. She clutched the box tighter to her chest, feeling her legs moving out of their own accord, albeit weakly.

She had been worried that today, out of all days, he wouldn't be there as she could not see him. She felt slightly flustered; standing somewhere she did not belong, looking out with wide, voracious eyes for a tall, lean figure. Only he wasn't where had had been days before.

Loki had seen her just as she had appeared near the main entrance. Fate on his side, he had been standing quite secluded, glaring at some of the mightiest warriors Asgard had to offer. He was in a sour mood today, though he did not exactly know why. He had smirked in silent conquest when he saw her walk determinedly towards the back, turning her head anxiously, obviously looking for him. He ought to have made himself visible, but he had appeared out of the sidelines, walking silently behind her, taking his time to appreciate his success in the accurate understanding of the creature before him. She had given in.

She was smaller than him, much smaller. With her modest gown of coarse fabric intended for work, the leather box clutched tightly to her chest looking too big to fit in her arms, and the lost expression on her face, she looked positively out of place. Precisely at this moment, she seemed the most inadequate pupil and he questioned his sanity at the notion of instructing her. He'd get no glory for it, no reward or universal praise. But he'd get hers and this was a small step. His brother had asked, his parents expected him to and he only wanted to make them proud. It was a bit far fetched, but possible.

Kára turned abruptly, colliding into his chest. She stumbled back, muttering an apology. The leather box nearly fell out of her hands and she clumsily arranged it in her arms again. "Oh, I am so sorry. Do forgive me."

When she looked up, she saw a pair of emerald eyes sizing her up. He looked striking in half his armor, so dangerous and adept in warfare.

He smirked, thoroughly amused. "Were you looking for me?"

Kára stood a bit straighter. "You know that I was."

Loki took the box out of her arms, giving her the chance to smooth out her dress. "It's been days, Kára." He had no blatant desire to make her uncomfortable, but it was perfect now that she was here. "And I know you've seen me, waiting for you."

Her cheeks flamed, exposing her mortification. She felt silly, thinking of how she had foolishly convinced herself she had been perfect in her pretense that she hadn't seen him.

Loki was a master manipulator. It took her a while to assume that, though. How well he had worked it out to make it seem like she was the one to blame. How sly.

"As I recall, this was a token for you apology." She said and he moved past her, leading her further in.

He heard her words, a slight implication in her tone. "You thought I wouldn't wait." He stated. "You thought I'd break my promise." He knew, because she had been so adamant to ignore him, so sure that next day he wouldn't be there.

She felt ashamed to admit it, especially since she felt his statement as an accusation with hurt laced in between. "No," she lied. "I just…" She detested how shy she was feeling. She couldn't seem to form the right words and it was such a contrast to how she had presented herself when he apologized.

Loki cut her off. "You may keep your assumptions to yourself. It is of no consequence if that's what you thought. I was here and now you are too." He was not being harsh, because he wanted to move past this quickly. It was irrelevant to his purpose and would only delay her training. He knew she was lying and it gave him so sort of strange satisfaction. He gestured around. "This is where we'll train."

"Loki," Swallowing nervously, she met his gaze. Kára had never been one to address a conflict directly. She could be strong and determined when needed, but this man…this prince made her revert to an overly timid, self-conscious version of herself. "I really just came to return your daggers."

He had been paying attention to her, but his gaze turned into a warning. "I sincerely hope you're not going into that direction again."

She shook her head, casting her eyes downward. His green eyes were too piercing. "I have thought about it. Like I told Sif and Thor, I am really not fit for battle. I will have no need for it." She smiled, hoping this might assuage him. "You must have better things to do. Princes always do."

"I already apologized for my words, Kára. There's no need to bring them back." He reminded her coldly.

She touched his arm, quickly contradicting him. "Oh, no, no. Loki, I did not mean it that way, but it's true. I am not resentful. I just…think it would be best."

Now was his opportunity, to walk away without a responsibility. He no longer had to teach her. He felt her squeeze his arm reassuringly. It was inexplicable that he should feel compelled to her care. Something drew him in. Perhaps because she seemed like a wounded bird, so naïve, he felt possessive. He had never had something to care for that was entirely his. Now, as a grown prince with power, everything he liked, he took. She was an advantage, a curious little thing.

"Perhaps we've started off inadequately." Loki mused. "We agreed to be friends, did we not?"

She drew her eyebrows together in confusion. "Yes, but how…?"

He cut her off yet again. "You will reside in Asgard for an indefinite amount of time, will you not?"

Kára sighed. The manner in which he was questioning her left no room for contradiction or even a slight twist of a vague answer. "Yes."

"Then you will have to train, Kára, learn our ways, meet our people, live like an Asgardian." He smiled when she flinched as a particular loud blow was heard from the training warriors. "You may not be able to hold a sword, but I can teach you to duel in other ways."

She bit her lip, unsure. His offer was kind and she could feel sympathy in his voice. The greatest issue here was that she her fear of being ridiculed, by him or anyone.

He could feel her resolve crumbling. "If you won't do it for that," he put an end to her conflicted thoughts. "Then do if for me, as a friend."

She couldn't deny him. As much as she wanted to, he made it hard to. He was determined and forceful, but not entirely in a harsh manner. She sighed, feeling defeated. Something about him made her feel exhausted. "I suppose I could try it." She said. "I do have one request, though."

"Anything." Loki replied, a victorious glint flashing in his eyes.

"Patience." She said. "You will have to be very patient with me. I have no condition; I have never had training before. If you're so adamant that I do this, then you will have to be patient."

"That won't be a problem."

* * *

"Again!" Loki's voice was hard and full of command.

Kára spared a slight glare in his direction. She was exhausted and she knew he was aware of it. Half her daggers lay at her feet, glinting with mock freshness. Breathing hard, she stood. Sweat had broken from her brow and her hair stuck to the back of her neck uncomfortably. He was sitting quite calmly, observing her with scrutiny and she wondered yet again if she had made the wrong decision, finally coming to his instruction.

She had changed, per his command, into a pair of leather pants. They were quite uncomfortable. Being a noble lady, Kára had worn gowns practically all of her life. Wearing pants made her feel exposed. The entire shape of her legs could be seen and it was not something she felt confident in parading around. Thankfully, the robe donned over it reached her mid thighs, covering her backside. There was no armor on her body, as it would make it difficult for her to train. They were simple garments, but effective.

She took another dagger and took her position. He had shower her the basics of her training, the poses she had to take, the manner in which she should be breathing. She had listened with avid attention, questioning him. It made him feel important. His vanity had taken over and he was now pushing her further on, patience almost forgotten.

She tried to still her breathing, holding the dagger by the sharp end. She stood perpendicular to the target farther away, slightly crouched. Bring her right arm in front of her, Kára glanced at the target and swung her arm back.

The dagger missed the target shamelessly, its fall clashing against the beautiful marble floors. Some people turned, but most ignored it. She sighed, standing with hands on her hips and shaking her head. Her muscles were sore already, hurting badly. She wanted to rest, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not on her first instruction.

_I will not give up. _

She picked up another dagger and took position once again. He was behind her in an instant. She had been so concentrated she had not felt him.

"Wait." He commanded. "You're throwing the dagger too late." He grabbed her arm and made the swing movement himself, instructing where exactly she should release the weapon.

It was wonderful to watch him, if she could be honest with herself. He moved with grace so unlike the fighting she had been watching all morning. His movements were fluid and swift. Some were so fast she even had trouble following them. But he was very skilled in the art. At first, it made him seem more dangerous, more intimidating even. As the morning drew on, however, the way he taught her made him seem less like a prince and more like a friend. He was kind and patient, like she had requested. Only after she showed him she had understood and memorized the positions and movements, he had become more ambitious.

Kára nodded. "My glove is loose. I'm afraid it will slip off. I think that is why I'm holding too tight to the dagger and letting it slide later."

Loki took her hand, inspecting it. "Do not worry about that. We will have them fitted. Now," he took her right hand again, the one clutching the dagger and formed a fist over her own. "Swing thus," he moved it towards her chest, bringing her hand to her left shoulder.

She tried to concentrate, but the most peculiar thing was happening. Suddenly, it felt as if she was aware of every tiny detail about him. Her shoulder met the crook of his own and for a moment it seemed as if he was embracing her. There was something strangely protective about their position. His other hand was on her left arm, holding it tightly, moving up and down to set a pace to her breathing. He was saying something, but she couldn't understand him clearly. It wasn't his fault, though. She was just too focused on the way he spoke near her ear to make actual sense of the words.

She tried to suppress the shiver that ran down her neck, but her body trembled on it own accord.

"Are you alright?" Loki asked, having noticed her shaking.

She was about to answer and lie, when a third voice addressed them. "Prince Loki, how wonderful to see you."

Kára turned to look upon the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Donned in a pale blue gown, the woman tossed her flaming red hair over a shoulder, looking down at them amusedly. She was walking down the small set of stairs, drawing eyes from several warriors. She oozed confidence in the way she walked and smiled knowingly. Her turquoise eyes were striking as well, even more accentuated by the color of her gown. She was looking at Loki like a predator, yet Kára did not see Loki as a prey to her.

But Freyja was looking at Loki that way. He was hers. He always was, always had been and always will be. She often walked about the training grounds, particularly pleased with the array of able warriors parading around, but today she had been fortunate to encounter him. It was not so fortunate, however, that he was with a plain, disenchanting little creature. Oh, she was nothing to be worried about. She would not even spare a glance in Kára's direction. Her eyes were for him alone.

"Freyja." Loki dropped his arm, bringing Kára's with his. He nodded at Freyja. It was not surprising she had come looking for him. He had, after all, gone back to her bed, like she had said. He had poured all his frustrations on her and she accepted them willingly. It was a convenient relationship and her gorgeousness acquired was something he prided himself in. He had her. She never denied him.

"I was walking by and saw you. It's been quite a while and I thought I should come by and greet you." She spoke sweetly, too sweetly.

She, too, stood taller than Kára. The smaller woman studied her for a brief moment. She had to be perfection. Her chiseled features were delicate, with angled lines and youth in them.

"That was kind of you." Loki said. For Kára's benefit, he would not talk to Freyja in the very intimate manner in which they normally communicated. "Allows me to introduce Lady Kára."

And her features transformed. She spared a glance at the lady, roaming her calculating eyes up and down her figure. Kára was struck by the harshness of her study of her. She knew women could be vapid, but she felt downright insulted.

Freyja cocked an eyebrow, now thoroughly displeased. At first she had thought her to be a nobody, but it seemed Kára had the same nobility she had. One quick look at her and all was dismissed, however. He smirked coldly. She truly was a plain nobody.

"How adorable. It must be like having a new pet." She gushed, hypocrisy laced with sweetness. "I did not know you took pupils, my prince. If I had known, I would have asked you to teach me." She pouted at him, Kára completely dismissed.

Loki was well aware of Freyja and her manners. He knew the poison in her words whenever she saw him with another, even if that another was only a friend. He did not like the way she was looking at Kára or the way she made her recoil with her comments. He felt himself drawn to protect her, to shield her, because she was his, even if in a very different way that Freyja was.

"I shall be back, Kára. Keep practicing." Loki instructed.

And just like that he was gone, Freyja walking behind him with a petulant sway.

Kára tried hard not to look at them, well into animated conversation. It was difficult, however, because she had not expected to feel such disappointment. It shocked her for a moment, to be feeling that way, even rising into a slight anxiousness. She convinced herself, after much deliberation, that her feelings were prompted by him being her only friend in Asgard. Well, that was not entirely true. She had Sif and Thor as well, Volstagg and Hogun coming up close. But Loki was much more intimate, given the mending apology that had taken place.

Before she could throw another dagger properly, Loki was back. He seemed a bit annoyed, but smug nonetheless.

Curiously, she peered over her shoulder and sure enough, Freyja was there, now sitting on a bench, her eyes fixed on them intently.

"Remember when to release the dagger."

Kára sighed, her sore muscles protesting her every movement. She shook her arms slightly so as to shrug the stiffness away and took position. Swinging her arm, she threw the jeweled dagger. It fell off to the right, even more so than before.

And on it went, for quite some time more. She kept failing and missing the target disastrously. It wasn't so much that she was tired. But she was feeling uncomfortable. Kára had always been self-conscious, extremely so, but now it was thoroughly excruciating to have Freyja stare at her with cold, appraising eyes. She had laughed and smirked whenever Kára missed, loud enough to be heard by her.

Kára hated it. She could not move properly. She was being ridiculed and laughed at by Freyja, who had found some company to do it with her. She felt gazes on her at all times, whispered criticism and laughter at her expense. She was suddenly very much aware of herself, wondering in her movements were awkward or clumsy, perhaps funny.

Her eyes burned with threatening tears, but she would not let them fall. _I am better than that. _She repeated it over and over in her head.

"Kára." Loki's voice was tense. "What is wrong? You were not this unfocused before."

"Nothing." She answered, perhaps a bit harshly. "I am merely tired. That is all."

She made a move to take another dagger, before he stopped her. "It's not only that. I feel you're holding back." He said. "Look up."

Kára shook her head, angrily turning from him. She began placing the daggers back into the leather box, quite determined to put an end to the session. He was quick for her, however, and took her hands in his, effectively stilling her erratic movements. "If there is something disturbing your lessons, it should be gone." A shrill chuckle reached his ears and he understood. "Are you uncomfortable with our spectators?"

She looked up, a defeated smile on her face, thought she looked a bit pleased. And she was, because he had understood her. "Yes, I feel too self conscious." She explained. "I feel I'm being made fun of and it's hard to concentrate." She decided to be open because maybe he's take pity on her and allow her to walk away, free from it.

Loki nodded. She was too insecure. That was not a desirable feature, but he could sympathize, if only slightly. "Very well. Should you like to continue with the teachings, perhaps it would be best to find another place to do so." He conceded and it pleased him to see the gratefulness in her eyes. "I will call on you the day after tomorrow."

Kára thanked him and promised she would do better next time she saw him, now completely unaware of eyes shadowing her.

Freyja grit her teeth. She did not like this, no matter if Kára was plain, little, and far less attractive than her. She had picked up on subtle hints from them. That was, perhaps, the most important reason to have stayed there and watched the useless practice take place. She could assess the damage and take some control back. Loki had too much caring in his eyes and though Kára was unaware of it, it did not make Freyja feel at ease. She did not like this at all.

Loki was hers by right and precedence. No one would be first in his eyes but her.

* * *

**Phew! Once again I'm so sorry it took more time to upload this chapter. I'm going to be so happy next week when I'm finally done with finals. Only two more to go, yay!**

**It's almost 3:00 am where I live but I was dying to write another chapter and upload it for you guys. If you dee a typo or mistakes here and there, please don't be too harsh. I'm barely keeping my eyes open. I just really, really**** wanted to give you guys a chapter, so here it was!**

**Hopefully I hear from you guys soon. Please review if you think this story is worth it. I would be ever so grateful!**

**New reviewers, WELCOME!**

**Old reviewers, WELCOME BACK!**

**You are all loved very much by lil' ol' me!**

**- Lily**


	9. Acceptance

**Hi everyone!**

**Phew! Once again, I'm so so sorry about taking so long to update. I'm finally free of finals! YAY! Thank you to everyone who sent their well wishes and positive thoughts for my exams. I passed everything. Wooohooo!**

**And now, to celebrate I get two weeks off and the many wonderful people who have subscribed to my story, here's a beautiful chapter! **

**I'm already working on next chapter and I'm fangirling over it…seriously. **

**To everybody new, please leave a review. I love hearing from you: is there anything you like? Something you'd like to see happen between these two?**

**To my regular reviewers, please continue! I love you all!**

Dani: Thank you so much! I hope you will continue liking it as much as I enjoy writing it.

The Impressionist: Hi again! You're the sweetest! Excellent, then: I now know which one is your account. Thank you for your criticism. I shall change the word as soon as possible! You're right, I did mean venomous. You're amazing, really, thanks! I'm sorry my chapters seem so short. I try to build up their relationship in a believable sort of way, but I will try harder to make them longer. That being said, I'm sorry this chapter is short too *sheepish grin*. And thank you, again, for getting more people interested in my story. I adore you!

Kylee: Goodness me! That was the longest review I've ever had and I absolutely ADORE you for it! Once again, thank you so much for taking the time to write this lovely review and especially for understanding how important reviews are to me and yes, I do take everyone says seriously. I even take some notes for future scenes of little ideas I get from what you guys tell me.

Hahah The physical part between Loki and Kára will come soon, but I'm afraid it's a painful build up til it happens. They're just so stubborn!

I have not read Jane Eyre, but it's definitely been on my list for quite a while now. I just have to get it now. I saw the latest movie (Michael Fassbender kills me too, he's gorgeous) but I just know the book will be great! Aww darling, I simply don't know how to respond to so many compliments, but I'm delighted at how you tear apart this story and analyze it so well.

To quote Tom Hiddleston, "Hehehe" I know Freyja is a very unpopular character here. Don't worry, though. Kára will get her own at Freyja…I'm just waiting for the right moment Mwahahah! And Kára needs a bit of growing up to do. Yes! I'm hoping these two will get over themselves and give me something to work with that juicy for all my readers. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really can't thank you enough. And yes, I did very well in my finals, but I was literally dying to get back to you guys.

Bobobo: Thank you so much! I admit I sometimes have trouble figuring Loki out and it's hard to keep the nature of his character. Sometimes he might seem out of character but this is how I imagine him to be before the Thor movie and it will eventually build up into being how he is. Really, thank you, for your positive thoughts on my finals. Hope to hear from you again!

Rey: Thank you darling! Indeed, beauty isn't everything and Freyja is very much used to getting her way because of her beauty and tsk tsk tsk, we shall see how see reacts when she sees him slipping away.

Debbie Lazarus: Thank you darling! A wonderful review and I'm so happy you read other people's opinions in my reviews. I just know that I now have to read Jane Eyre. Definitely, next book on my list. Oooh, you're so sweet! I'm sorry I took so long to update. I hope, though, that your exams went fantastic and you succeeded over every single one of them. I passed mine, thank God! YAY! Hope you hear from you again and again, thank you!

Cherrytree327: Yay, welcome! Thank you so much for your review! Loki and Kára are driving me nuts with all their tension. Hope you like this new chapter. And go beat those exams in the butt! Good luck! Hope to hear from you again, any ideas or suggestions are more than welcome!

**Reviews encourage an author to write! Please remember that. Thank you! =)**

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Acceptance**

* * *

The sun was slowly making its way into his balcony. The wide, open archway that served as passage to it was high and seemed to be allowing a soft breeze in.

Loki lay on his bed, staring out. The morning felt light and cool on his being, deep breaths confirming his life was intact. Barefoot, he padded across the room and went out the balcony, taking in the magnificent view of Asgard, bathed in luminosity. His rooms were located not on the highest tower of the marble palace, but one high enough to give him sight of the great expanse of the realm. He had never been able to see the Rainbow Bridge of the Bifrost from his room as they faced opposite directions, but he did not particularly mind. He preferred the sight before him. It was soothing for his often-troubled mind.

The rising sun cast a golden glow to the waking world. Its mountains and trees, the water below and life all around it were draped in light far more gentle than the harsh rays of the mid-day sun.

Loki favored the morning sun. It was soft and forgiving, a stark contrast, he felt, to the unyielding afternoon sun. Yet, it had a certain chill to it, a quality given to the dawn, which made it fresh and new. At times, he wished he could be reborn with the morning. More often than not, he felt uneasy with his life.

But his heart felt light today, lighter than he had felt it in quite some time.

He liked that feeling too, though he could not determine the source. Something was changing, he could feel it. It was vague and almost untraceable, but something was different. He took a deep breath, allowing the cool air to fill his lungs.

He contemplated staying longer, but he had duties. Fortunately, a most amusing one was first on his list today. With a slight smirk, he thought of Kára and wondered how her muscles were faring today.

She was a stubborn creature. Her muscles had been protesting a few minutes into the actual training but she had not relented. It was part painful, part amusing to watch. She had been so tired and yet, she had not allowed herself to show anything less than determination. Of course, it may have been prompted by her pride alone, but he had seen the hidden grimaces, the winces she toned down and masked.

Nothing had been more obvious, though, than the blatant relief on her face when he had let her go. She practically ran out of the training grounds, almost forgetting her daggers, almost leaving him at Freyja's claws.

He could not remember the last time he had denied Freyja. She was his trophy, even if she wasn't completely his. She had been everything and anything. He had always been pinning for her, always wanting her, always having her, yet never owning her. It had angered him.

Two days ago it changed. He had felt sympathy for Kára when Freyja looked down at her. Perhaps because he had felt the same thing when Asgardians had done it in his early youth, perhaps because Kára indeed was his pet, so to speak. She was his too, but nobody knew that. He could not even understand the nature of his possessiveness.

It reminded him of a child with a new toy. She was a new toy. With time, maybe, he'd grow tired of her. But she was something so new and so appealing to his wounded psyche, he could not let her go.

He had been too insistent on her training. It was obvious she had no talent for battle, but it had presented itself as a perfect opportunity to be more, to have more.

He sighed. His thoughts were more confusing as of late. Sometimes they were as clear as dawn falling on the vast waters before him. Sometimes they resembled a raging war between disorientation and irrationality.

Loki shook his head, determined to keep the lightness in his soul today, and went about his day.

* * *

Kára winced as she moved about her ward. Two days after her first training session and she was still sore. Her muscles protested and it was hard not to moan in distress with every move she made.

Thankfully, the ward had been empty for a few days now. She still helped about others wards, having finally earned the right among her companions. But it was grateful not to have such a big responsibility as of now, when she felt less than capable of doing anything.

"My lady." Bergdis, one of her handmaidens, inclined her head as she entered the ward. She was carrying a bowl of salve, especially made for her. She approached Kára, a look of sympathy on her face. "Ástrid will be along shortly."

Kára nodded, deeply grateful. More than attendants, Bergdis and Ástridr were her friends, companions who had long ago formed a deep bond of mutual care. However bound to her by duty, they were free to do as they pleased, Kára having no desire to have anyone at her disposal every minute of every day.

"Thank you, Bergdis." She smiled. "It feels worse today. I did not think it would be this overexerting."

"You can't be surprised." The blonde handmaiden called out to her from the working table. "You hardly ever do any exercise and you did push yourself too hard."

Kára knew she was right. She had pushed herself too far to save her pride but it had a negative repercussion on her body. "I know. I just wanted to show him that I could do it."

Ástrid, her second handmaiden walked in. "Well, I think he shouldn't have made you do it." Her honey colored eyes shone in annoyance. "It must have been obvious you were in pain."

"He is not to blame." Kára reprimanded softly. "It was my doing and these are my consequences."

Ástrid rolled her eyes impatiently. "You are too good, my lady."

They were both so different from each other, Bergdis and Ástrid, and she loved them both so. Bergdis was calm and peaceful, always soft spoken and delicate in her actions. She was a motherly figure even if she was only a few years younger than her. Ástrid was fierce and impatient, outspoken and often forgot her manners, but loyal and sincere. They were like night and day, complementing each other and educating her in both paths. It was a wonderful combination. Kára was certain her mother had been very well aware of this fact and had taken into account to choose them as her handmaidens.

She smiled sheepishly. "I will not be blaming an Asgardian prince for my stubborn pride. You know I can be obstinate."

"We do know that." Ástrid came to her side. She placed a big bowl of warm water before her, while Bergdis applied salve to her arms. "Which is why we don't understand, if you were so determined to return his gift, did you take him up on his offer."

There was no reasonable explanation she could give them. She looked down at her arms, being tended to by her dearest friends. She had never lied to them before, yet there was nothing that she could say that could be a satisfying answer, even to herself. "I don't know."

Bergdis smiled. "You like his company." She was brutally honest sometimes, but it never hurt.

Kára blushed. "He's different." Her voice was small, contemplative.

"You're blushing." Ástrid was peering into her, almost accusingly. "Could it be you favor something more than his company?"

"Of course not." She was too quick to deny it.

It was not surprising, really. Loki was a handsome prince. It was painfully obvious to anyone's eye. But Kára could not acknowledge it. For this, she had made several justifications a long time ago, more so as a defense mechanism from the male rejection she had suffered while growing up. She was bound by duty to await the match her parents would make for her.

"Ástrid, it is not our place to make assumptions." Bergdis admonished.

"Well, no, but…"

"Prince Loki was kind enough to entertain me on my first night here." Kára spoke. "He is a friend who is being most accommodating in teaching me more of Asgard. If he didn't, it would reflect poorly on his Father's hospitality. So we should be grateful."

Bergdis smiled encouragingly, while sharing a look with Ástrid. "Indeed we should."

"Are we expecting him today?"

"Perhaps." Kára answered, hoping the small hope in her voice was unnoticeable.

She spent a few minutes in silence. Her friends tended to her arms diligently. She bit her lip, preventing a groan to escape her mouth.

_The price for a wounded pride._

* * *

Loki followed the path to her ward, confident she'd be waiting for him. He found, however, that she was not ready. In fact, she was being cared for. He heard her small sounds of distress before he could see her face. Indirectly, she had been marked by him and still wore the signs of his instruction on her pained body. He smirked. It gave him a strange sort of satisfaction. It was very unnatural, to be sure, but he had never been one to conform to the usual.

"Am I interrupting?"

She sprang to her feet, surprised to see him entering her ward so unexpectedly. She quickly went about to hide the bandages surrounding her arms. "Loki." She voiced in acknowledgment, trying to hide her confusion.

Her handmaidens bowed as per custom, but he barely acknowledged them.

Kára smiled at him, trying to divert his attention. "Must you always do this?"

"Do what?" He asked. She should know it was futile, trying to hide anything form his observant eyes. Her movements were slow as she tried to undo the bandages, clumsily pushing them down her arms. The auburn haired handmaiden was at her side at once, cleaning off whatever it was on her with a cloth.

"Approach unnoticed." She replied, over her shoulder. "It is very rude, you know."

Loki smiled back, perhaps a bit too innocently. "I see no danger in it. I can come and go as I please."

"That is your right as prince of Asgard." She conceded. "However, it should be everyone's privilege to be allowed some privacy. Who knows what conversations you might have walked in on?"

"Why? Would I have found anything interesting had I walked a minute earlier?" He walked closer, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

Kára shook her head. "No, of course not. But it would be prudent to allow a lady fair warning before storming in, wouldn't you think?"

"But these are not your quarters, Kára…" He chuckled. "A healing ward is open to anyone, I believe."

She did not want to admit defeat, but he had a fair point. Had she wanted more privacy tending to her body, she might have gone to room. With as much dignity as possible, she turned to him, discreetly touching her arms to dispose of anything that was still adhered to them. "Yes, of course."

He sensed her defeat. She did not look annoyed, though. She was smiling, like he had always found her to be. She smiled always, too much. It was strange and wonderful that she should. He had never found anyone who smiled as much as she did. What had she to be joyous about? What did anyone?

"If it means that much to you," Loki inclined his head. "I shall give you fair warning before I approach you."

She found his eyes to be unsettling. It was odd to think them so, but they were. Perhaps she felt transparent to his poring eyes. She had never been hard to read. Her feelings were often expressed by every gesture of her body. His eyes, however, made her feel like a book being read, scrutinized. "You don't have to do that." She said and went about the task of cleaning.

He wondered why she did not simply allow her handmaidens to take care of it, but she seemed determined to help them. "I want to." He said and awaited his reward.

She gave him just that. A smile. Another one, always another one. Like a child mimicking his parents in early development, he smiled back, mirroring her.

"I found a suitable place to continue your training."

"Did you?" She asked. "I did not want you to go through any trouble on my account." She was mortified. After thinking long and hard about it, there was no reason why she shouldn't go back to the training grounds. She could face anyone, at least she thought that now, but was sure actually being there, feeling eyes on her would make her think otherwise. Still, she certainly did not want to trouble him with her uncertainties. "I do not mind going back to the training grounds, Loki."

He pursed his lips. "It is done. I have found a place and we shall use it."

"I'm sorry, then." She said. "It was not my intention, truly, to take you out of the training grounds."

Perhaps she though he was mad at her, the way he answered. That was not the case and he did not want her to think that. "Nonsense. It is better as we will have more space." He said. "And brace yourself, Kára. More space means more distance and more distance would increase the difficulty in your training."

"But I've only just started." She replied, calmly. After all, she did not want him to think she was protesting. But she was! At least, her body was. Just the thought of harder training was enough to fatigue her mind.

Loki smiled, now with mischief. "Oh, but you were doing so well. You did not look tired at all." He put a finger to his lips. "Perhaps I was too easy on you." He was just waiting for the desired effect. He was manipulative, he had to have control.

Kára bit her lip, torn. Her whole upper body was so sore. Her muscles felt like they would give away on her arms any second. "No, you were not." She finally admitted. "I am not ready for anything more advanced. I don't think my arms can hold the dagger as of now, let alone throw it."

"There now, was that so hard to admit?" His smile was knowing, but not unkind to her eyes.

Her mouth opened as she struggled to get the words out, the cloth dangling clumsily in her hand as her fist shook. "You knew of my suffering?"

"I did, yes."

"Then why did you not say anything?" She peered at him curiously, not accusingly.

Loki looked down at her, clasping his hand solemnly behind his back. "That, Kára, was a lesson. You should know your limits." He explained. "I had hoped you would ask me to stop when you were tired. You never said anything."

It seemed wrong, but he was right. She should have swallowed her pride. "My arms hurt." She accepted with a sheepish smile.

He nodded and took her arm in his hands. "Here?" He asked

He kept traveling up. Her arms were hot to the touch as a result of them being treated under warm water earlier before. His fingers felt cool in comparison as he kneaded her forearm but she shook her head. His hands went further up, now on her bicep and she allowed a small moan of pain as he rubbed on the offended muscle. He was watching her intently; the light in the room making his eyes a light blue shade with flecks of green.

She was biting the corner of her bottom lip, he noticed, making the other side a bit fuller than it usually was. She stared up at him in wonder as he kept rubbing her arm in circles, transferring the energy from one side to another, assessing the damage done.

She had to look away. The contact was too intimate. And it occurred to her that she had stopped breathing. Gently, so as to not offend him, she extracted her arms from his grasp. "It should be alright now." She breathed out. "Ástrid and Bergdis have tended to it well."

Loki nodded. He intimidated her still. At first it had been fun, encouraging even. Strange enough, he did not want that now. "I shall change your exercises from today. Come, I will show you where it is that we will train."

"Now?" Kára asked, almost complaining. She had thought he would allow a day off after her admission. Her arms hurt so bad. "I thought…"

"I will not make you train today." Loki was walking out, speaking over his shoulder. "I merely want to make sure the place is suitable."

"Where are we going? Should I change?" She called out to him, but the idea was less than appealing, as she disliked walking around in the leather pants he had given her.

Loki turned and looked her up and down. She had the urge to cover herself further, even though her gown was modest enough. "Changing won't be necessary. As for your other question, really Kára, would you want me to ruin the surprise?" He turned back, his long strides and strut commanding her to follow.

She looked down at her dress, feeling embarrassed by it. She never wore any of her own while working at the ward, so she supposed she looked less than presentable.

_Focus._

She had no time to change, though. Ástrid was coming back in. Curious, she had not noticed them disappearing from her side. Her handmaiden handed her a leather case, her daggers, with a smirk, while Bergdis ushered her off with a knowing smile. With a sigh, she took after him in a gentle run.

* * *

**I hope you guys don't hate me too much because this chapter was a bit shorter than the last. **

**Next chapter we'll have some interesting conversations! Oooh I'm so excited their relationship is building up.**

**Once again, thank you all who follow this story and keep pushing me on.**

* * *

******Reviews encourage an author to write! Please remember that. Thank you! =)**


	10. Chapter 10

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! First of all, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has read, liked, subscribed to this story. From the bottom of my heart, I am deeply grateful. That being said, allow me to express my concern about something that's been nagging me. **

**I realize that the pace of this story is a bit slow and more descriptive than others. I've suddenly become a bit paranoid that this could be a reason to lose some readers. This is in no way a petty, selfish idea in which I'm not getting what I want, but I meant to express that I'm genuinely worried that people might get bored with how I'm trying to develop their relationship. If that's the case, then allow me to make some justification for it. **

**Loki is not an easy character to portray, because we all know how he becomes in the end (As most, if not all, of us have seen Thor and The Avengers). This story is set a couple of years before Thor, and Loki is not as jaded then. As we can see, there are feelings and thoughts that give way to the kind of mentality he will have in the movies, but nothing complete as of yet. **

**Which is why, being the complex character that he is, I wanted to create another character that could be so fetching to that personality and how I imagine him to be before all the events that will lead him to become the actual God of Mischief, so to speak. **

**Perhaps the pace of the story is too slow, but I sincerely think their relationship must be built on something deeper than attraction, which at this point Loki doesn't feel at all, because Kára is not instantly appealing to the eye. She's pretty common. So the relationship needs a deeper bond. They need to get to know each other, through various events that will happen. It will come, with time but it needs to be built on something that appeals to his soul, in order to survive and develop with the upcoming events. **

**So, for people who have stuck with my story, I hope you will continue to do so. I will not disappoint you. I always try my hardest with this story, I promise!**

**For those who have left because it may seem too slow, I am deeply sorry I cannot appeal to your wishes, but I really do believe nothing so shallow could turn our Loki around, or provide enough motivation for his affections.**

**- A very humbled author. **

**PS: I love you!**

Kylee: You make me love you SO much! Your reviews are always so thorough! It makes me so happy that someone find my story so amazing and that it makes you happy too! I totally agree with you: Asgars looked magnificent in Thor and I had hoped more of it would be shown, but now such luck. Hopefully we'll see more in Thor 2. You are very clever! You take in a lot from this story and sometimes it's exactly what I'm thinking while I'm writing. Do you fangirl like I do? Hahah whenever I write a scene about Loki I almost sqeal when I reread it. Darling, if you adored that little intimate moment between them I can't tell you all that's going to happen or you would kill me! Or I could kill you with FEELS! Loki is just such a wonderful character to try to decipher. It's like peeling the layers of an onion over and over again. I keep finding motives and justifications for him and trying to get inside his head is soooo exhausting but oh so enjoyable. Hahaha I'm glad I could make you laugh. That was the idea! Tom Hiddleston rocks big time! And don't worry about making your reviews long. I am so very interested I what you guys have to say about the story. It's what I want everyone to do! Since it gives me an idea of how they come across and what I should change. So THANK YOU! Muaaah!

The Impressionist: Hey again, luv! Thank you so much! How was your week? Those little outbursts in between their conversations are the bomb for me! I fangirl so much. After this chaper, things will be developing a bit more rapidly and Loki will become a bit more possessive. Ooooh! Even I can't wait!

Stfw: Awww, I know! Poor Loki…the heartbreak he has had all of his life is just too much for him and he sometimes projects is as being mean. He will be better, I promise! Hope to hear from you again!

Stell: Oh, thank you so so so much! I do try and it's sometimes hard but I keep trying to better for all of you! I'm so happy you like my story so much. More of the other characters will come soon. Hope to hear from you again! =)

Rey: Hi! Oh, sweetie! I'm sorry I took so long to update! Yes, you should make an account to get the story updates, because I feel so bad keeping you guys waiting and checking in on me. Thank you! You're a sweetheart!

Cherrytree327: Thank you! After this chapter, their relationship will develop slowly but surely and it will set into a pace a bit more quick than before…YAY for that! Oooh those buried feeling from Loki are giving me trouble. He's just so stubborn. Congrats on your german exam! I've always wanted to learn… Hope to hear from you soon!

Shannon: Thank you darling! Hope you continue to like it. This is going for the long run! Hope to hear from you again. =)

Debbie Lazarus: Thank you sweetie! Wooow, all the way til August? Man, how can you handle the waiting? I wish you ALL the best! Unfortunately, yes, Freyja will be coming back. Ugh, that witch! Exactly, you got my point of Freyja so well. Yes, there are always people who will bring you down and I've come across a lot of Freyja's thinking they can look down on anyone. And they don't realize how much they hurt other people. But we must all stand strong. Hope to hear from you again. =)

Sabrina: Is it really the best? Thank you SO much! Hope to hear from you again, darling. =)

Shirleen: Aaaaah! I'm with you there, with all the fangirling! You're so sweet. Thank you! Hope to hear from you soon. =)

Sierra: Thank you sweetie! Hope you like this one. =)

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Walking Contradiction**

* * *

Kára had never noticed just how busy the most populated areas of Asgard seemed to be.

They had been walking for a while, Loki leading the way. She suspected where it was that they were going, but for his sake she didn't say anything.

The city still overwhelmed her, but she looked upon its architecture with delight. It was simply magnificent. Immaculate buildings and glorious gardens with fountains adorned the city, which was complimented by the aesthetics that the people themselves provided. It was wondrous, really, how opulent Asgard was. Its floors and walls of polished marble shone with the sun's first light, and appeared to awaken with the morning. Banners hung from every window, from every balcony, clearly depicting a very patriotic population. Their golden color was harsh yet strangely comforting. White rose everywhere, contrasted by the fierce red of the flowers of the clear blues of the waters running through small canals.

As they walked, she questioned Loki about the different aspects of every day life and its places, always receiving a thorough explanation. It would seem that he thought Asgard to be a land of beauty as well, though a bit more subdued by his expression. After all, he had lived here his whole life, while she was barely scarping the surface of it magnificence.

Towering statues stood before her, warriors of the past glinting their gilded armor, guarding the bridge that led towards the wilderness of the land. She must have looked quite foolish staring straight up at them with her mouth open in awe. Fleetingly, she wondered what it would feel like to stand on their shoulders and gaze upon the seemingly endless horizon.

Distracted as she was, Kára didn't see the merchant she collided into. He had been walking with difficulty, his back carrying basket upon basket filled with his products piled up into a structure bigger and heavier than him.

She stumbled on her feet, hands waving about her, attempting to catch the apples that were falling from the man's back. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir." Kára quickly regained her balance. She was trying to put the fruit back on the baskets, but the man waved her away, clearly annoyed. "Please allow me." Kára kept trying to arrange the man's merchandise but it seemed she was only making things worse, because the man gently ushered her off and went on his way, making no attempt to acknowledge her efforts.

Loki had watched the incident from afar. He had been amused when she had wandered off on her own. She wasn't even aware that she was not walking by his side anymore. How could she if her gaze was directed straight upwards? So Loki stood and watched her, trying not to laugh. It had been impossible, of course, when he had seen her almost run the man over.

Then he became puzzled. The man's appearance was ragged and disheveled, clearly neglected for his age and while Kára was not wearing a proper gown, she still looked highborn. But the maiden did not snap at the man or at least ignored him like people similar to her station would have done. Instead, she apologized profusely and insisted on helping him with his merchandise. When the man ignored her and went on his way, she had trailed after him, half attempting to stop him. But when she had seen that it was futile, her shoulders dropped and she looked so dejected it was hard not to feel sorry for her.

She looked terribly embarrassed as she spotted him and came to join his side, cheeks aflame. She uttered a quick apology for her distraction.

Loki was confused. She was common in every other way but from her stance and spirit, so very different from what he would have imagined of her. But he did not know her, he had to admit. He could hardly judge her or make a character out of her. The sudden urge to ask was overwhelming, to get answers as to why she was so different and why it perplexed him so.

"Anyone else would have had him punished, you know." Loki started conversation, carefully assessing her expressions.

Kára looked confused by his statement. "Who?"

"The man you stumbled upon so hard, it's surprising you both kept standing." He smirked.

She let out a small breath, flustered at discovering that the accident had been noticed. Then the implications of his sentence brought another wave of confusion. "Why would he be punished?"

"For colliding into you."

"But it was my doing. I should have paid attention to where I was going. Had I not been distracted, I would have avoided it."

Loki's eyebrows shot up. "It would not have mattered. Blame would fall to the man who aggravated the lady."

Kára eyes were bewildered and affronted. "But it was my fault. Surely, anyone can realize how ridiculous it is to cast blame on those who have had the misfortune or the blessing to be born in more humble origins." She turned to Loki, a slightly angry look about her face. "Is this the way of Asgard?"

"No, Kára." He held up his hand in calm explanation. "This is not the way of Asgard." His eyes were boring into hers, trying to strip her away of every mask, trying to know her every thought. "I am merely remarking that this is what other high born ladies would have done. I have seen it." Perhaps even he thought they were justified. They were, after all, the aristocrat beings. Respect and allegiance should befall them wherever they went, no matter the circumstance, no matter the source.

She pondered on this for a moment then spoke so softly he could hardly hear her. "Well, it is detestable." Her words effectively cut off his train of thought. There was a silently strong determination in her voice.

"Yet you are of noble birth." Loki stated.

"I am, but it gives me no right to place myself above others. I was blessed to have been born in nobility, but what if I had not? What would happen if I suddenly found myself of more humble origins, having known this life?" Kára shook her head, staring at the people around him with a hidden sadness.

He was staring at her. It was inevitable that he should stare. She was a rare woman. Once again he was reminded of how different she was, from others and even him. "Some ladies would think you have the strangest notions, Kára."

"Perhaps." She nodded. "But I have never been educated to think myself more deserving than others simply because of my station. This could be the reason why I haven't found many friends."

Loki touched her arm, gently leading her away from the busy bridge and into the lonelier road ahead of them. He took another road, smaller one this time that led off the main one, to the side and went on and on. It was a self-made path, sheltered by bushes and small trees. But it led down into the valley. "Sif seems to like you well enough."

Kára's eyes lit up. "She is fantastic. I wish I could have half her grace in battle. She seems so powerful." She let out a longing sigh. Shyness struck her, because she couldn't help thinking that Loki should have a better pupil under his instruction.

"She is powerful, indeed." Loki conceded. "She has dedicated herself to discipline and practice."

Kára would not feel sorry for herself. So she smiled, like she often did. "Then I shall do the same. Hopefully, I can become half as good as she is, or at least get the dagger on the target."

Her good nature was overwhelming. He didn't understand it at all. "With practice you will."

They walked in comfortable silence, for a while. He watched her intently and she watched him too. Loki, however, was the only one aware that Kára kept glancing at him. He indulged her by pretending he did not notice, but he did. This was short lived as he found her suddenly leaning towards the edge of the road. She took a tiny plant in her hands and pulled, carefully inspecting the roots. With little regard for her dress, she pocketed the plant, dirt and all.

She was baffling, a walking contradiction on her own. "How did you come to Asgard?" He found himself asking.

"You have always had healers sent from home." She said. "I was the chosen one this time."

Loki was not satisfied. "Why you, then? It has been a long time since we have had another healer from your realm."

She sighed. "I was the most obvious and suitable choice. I had been trained enough at home and had little else to learn there. Father always said Asgard has hidden properties about its land that could be used for healing." A smile stretched her lips. Thinking of her parents often brought happiness to her eyes. How she missed them. "I remember when I was younger I asked him to let me come here and see it with my own eyes. I was much too young then, of course." She reminisced with a laugh. "As I got older, it became clear he would make me come and keep learning. And now I wish he had not allowed it."

He was surprised to hear the regret in her voice, the hidden sadness. "Is Asgard not to your liking?" He asked with trepidation, irrationally wary of her answer.

Kára sensed he was disappointed, perhaps a bit upset by her explanation. She did not mean to imply that his home was in any way less than magnificent. "Asgard has surpassed every dream I ever had." Her voice was gentle and frail. In her heart, she did not only mean the realm itself, but everything that had happened to here while living here. Meeting him and Thor as well as his friends had been a blessing, she thought. She could not help feeling a deep sadness, thinking of what it would feel when she would had to leave them. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Loki, catching his profile as he looked ahead. She would miss him the most. Even though, they did not know each other very well, he had opened something inside her.

It was confusing and terrifying, but she faced it with a tranquility entwined with resignation. Asgard has indeed surpassed every dream she ever had, because he was a dream himself. It was not a romantic notion, no, but it was liberation to certain feelings she had never felt before. And now she felt she could not contain the urge to look at him, examine him closely. How shallow she was, Kára reprimanded herself.

But she was not shallow at all, because even though she could not quite understand it, she wanted to know him. She wanted to understand him.

_Discipline and resignation. _

Kára protected herself with those words. They defined her life and her heart. It was inevitable. She would someday be called home to a future chosen for her, a man chosen for her…a life laid out before her. And she would comply because it was what she did best. She gave up her life for others. It was only adequate for the misfortune of not having terribly breathtaking beauty. So far, she had not been able to make a suitable match at home. Her father had sent her to Asgard to take her away from the desperation of her discouragement. He had wanted her to feel whole again.

Even so, Kára knew her future. She resigned to herself, surrendered to herself. It was both noble and cowardly. But she was so afraid…of being hurt.

"Why do you now wish you had not come?"

Loki was asking something, but she could not give him a full answer. "My father is ill." She stated simply. Kára would not tell him the real reason. Perhaps someday…

Loki nodded. "I am sorry to hear that."

She hated these morose thoughts. She had allowed them to bring her down once. Not anymore. So she looked on with optimism. "He will get better." She said. "I am hopeful."

Loki had to admire her conviction. It may have been misplaced, but it was commendable. "How did you become a healer?"

"My mother is a healer of great skill. I suppose I took on after what I learned from my parents."

He disliked how cryptic she was being. It was unfathomable that she should have such simple origins. No one ever did. No one was ever so simple, contrary to what he had originally thought of her. And he disliked her more because she had reduced him to a questioning child. Question after question, he asked.

"It is uncommon to hear of a high born ladies submit themselves to such tasks and training. How was your life back home?"

Kára laughed. "You are asking me to recount a whole life! Now, where could I possibly begin?"

"The beginning would be acceptable."

She saw the playful look on his face and she laughed softly, shoving him to the side with her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed and she laughed with that happiness that evaded him.

He felt out of sorts, both disliking her and admiring her. He couldn't help chuckling at their antics. She was a calm sort of child, a woman of innocence that was lost on others.

"I was born in the Realm of the Stars." She began and added as an afterthought, "I do not know why they call it so. Perhaps you should ask your Father. It is part of Asgard, after all." She let out a breath. "Well, from the beginning then, shall we? I was born to Folkvar, lord of the realm and Gersemi, the jewel of the north. I have three sisters, older than me." She stopped, seemingly at a loss of how to continue.

"There was nothing out of the ordinary about my childhood." She said. "I was brought up by my parents, though I had governesses and instructors of all kinds." She laughed as if remembering. "I had a fairly happy childhood. I often got in trouble because I could never stay still. I jumped, danced, ran." She shrugged her shoulders. "Just a normal childhood."

Loki nodded. He supposed he had a happy childhood as well, as happy as could be. His upbringing had been more severe than hers, being a prince. But Thor had always been there and together they had gotten into trouble, played, fought and laughed as she had done. It was not until later that he began to feel excluded from a path long promised to both. He looked upon his childhood memories with great cherish. He remembered running along the halls of the palace, his mother often appearing around a corner, with a playful warning that their father was near and they should behave.

"I would often wander off with the healers and they took me along on their expeditions to discover new plants and minerals."

She paused and Loki was drawn in by the dark storm gathering in her eyes. She seemed to be remembering something and by the look of her face, it was clear that it was not a pleasant memory. But just as it had appeared, she had made it disappear and it was gone. Instead, she was telling him of the simple life back home.

"It is always peaceful." She was telling him, but he did not want to know that. He wanted to know what it is that she was hiding. "There are no raging wars or battle among our people. It is a humble land, so there is no need for it. Even so, I believe my parents were even more adamant to exclude any kind of disagreement between the population and even in his own family."

"Is this why you smile so much?" Loki asked.

Kára cocked her head to the side, trying to understand the nature of his question. "I do not know. Perhaps I do not know anger as anyone else would. Serenity is greatly encouraged among us, so we thrive in it." There it was again, that dark shadow. But no, she would not tell him. She dared not and it pained her so…

She had not noticed how the environment had changed. The trees were taller now, of a deeper green and down below she could see the great plains of green, stretching out before her in a blanket of soft grass and just a bit ahead, the lake. Its crystal water remained calm, half of it sheltered in the shadow of the mighty trees that had grown around it and the other half coming to stop at the skirts of a small mountain, covered in evergreens.

"I knew it!" She suddenly exclaimed. "I knew we were coming to the valley."

Indeed they had. He had chosen this place because it was away from prying eyes and he suspected she would feel more comfortable. "Is it suitable for you?"

"Yes, of course." She said, looking around. She seemed doubtful for a moment. "But Loki, there is nothing to train with."

Loki threw her a half exasperated, half bemused look. "Have you forgotten what I can do?"

How could she? Never. She had hoped he would show her more magic, but she had been ashamed to ask. She thought of Freyja and how she had approached Loki. Shy and bashful, Kára had never been able to appeal to men that way. But Loki had seemed enthralled by her almost as everyone else in the training grounds had been. Perhaps if she asked like Freyja did, in flirtatious tones, she could've asked but that was not her nature. It would be foolish to imitate her.

Instead, her instinct of an excited expectation came out and she looked delighted. "Will you do more magic?" she asked back.

He smirked and felt the familiar tug on his chest. It grew with her awe and he felt her submit to the enchantment he provided. He looked proud as he waved his hands, very calmly. The ground before her was shifting. It became hard like the marble of the training grounds. Targets were appearing at different ranges, while the wind blew about them in powerful strokes.

Before her, a glove was dancing in mid air. With a small smile she looked at him, as if asking for permission to touch it. He nodded encouragingly. She hesitated for a moment then reached out and held it in her hands. She let out a small sigh as she put it on. A perfect fit, now that he had fixed it.

He did not do much, but she was impressed easily. He wanted to show her more, but it was not the time and he preferred to reserve that for when he needed it. He hated and loved her smile. In the short time he had known her, he had become dependent on that for his self-esteem. It was sickening, to feel so vulnerable and so empowered by it. He felt the incredible urge to wipe it off, but he reached her eyes and such notion disappeared completely as she took in how joyful she looked, thankful even, to be awarded with such display.

He cleared his throat. "Tell me of your parents."

"Oh, well, my mother is…" she became deep in thought for a moment. "The most beautiful woman I have ever known. She is kind and loving as any mother to her children. She has dark hair like my own and the most beautiful cerulean eyes. She's impatient and rash sometimes, but my father counteracts those traits. They have changed each other. She used to read stories to my sisters and I when we were children. I adore stories because of her." Kára had a sheepish expression. "She worries about me too much, but I supposed that's how all mothers are."

Loki smiled. "Mine does too. And what of your father?"

If he had thought her smile was unique, what he saw now was rare in itself. "My father is…my father." He seemed confused by her words, so she gave a small chuckle and continued. "I adore my father. He is big and bulky, often intimating but really, just a sweetheart. He's very powerful, too, but I suspect he doesn't use his powers much." Kára missed her parents so much. It was painful to talk about them. "I suppose I talk about my parents the way anyone would talk about theirs. My father is my hero and guardian. He is a good ruler, just, firm, and well loved among our people. I could not be more proud of him."

The young prince took a moment, however evanescent, to study her. She spoke of her family with such adoration, such veneration in her voice; it was unimaginable to undermine her passion. She loved them.

It was not a shallow, fugacious kind of love that could be perceived at any given moment from children who missed their parents, but a deep and profound devotion. The kind that shattered hearts and lives, just by its dedication, by its determination to give up her life for theirs.

But it was the look on her face that undid him. She looked up to the heavens, the sun shining down on her and he could almost feel the connection between her bloodline, communicating silently yet strongly across the realms. The fierce devotion on her serene face was more than evident.

Loki felt something knocked out of him. To his ever-growing horror, he found himself stunned as he recognized the bitter tugging of his heart.

He felt jealous. He wished it was he she was looking at...

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	11. Heated

**There's NO way in this world that I can thank you enough for your kind words and encouragement.**

**Almost 300 reviews! I can't believe it! I have to pinch myself whenever I look at that number…Really, guys! You are too good to me. I have been having a sad time at home so your words are even more appreciated that you think.**

**So, as a way to thank you, I've decided to give you all a longer chapter…with a promise that the next one will come soon. Considering I've finished writing this at 4 in the morning, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it.**

Toolazytologin: Hiii! Thank you so much for reviewing! I'm happy you look forward to it! Come back to review whenever you can! And again, thank you for such sweet words and support! YOU ROCK!

Cunning linguist: You, darling, are so very sweet! Thank you for your kind words of encouragement. Yes, I agree with the happy ending. I already have everything planned out…so you all just have to wait and see! Woohooo!

Stell: Really? Well, I always try to reply directly to everyone, so yay! Welcome! I do enjoy writing this story. Whenever I finish reading it, I do a little dance. I think I fangirl too much over my own story haha.

Sades: Thank you darling! I will keep on writing, then!

Taylor: Wow, you read all 10 in one sitting? Wooo…more to come soon! Thank you. =)

On-stolen-time: Thank you ever so much! Your kinds words keep me going!

Cherrytree327: Thank you so much! I'm so happy you like the pace and direction of this story. Yes, poor Kára has a few skeletons in her closet and it will be a few chapters into discovering all of them. I completely agree with you, Loki is deeply heartbroken and more sad than angry.

Erinweeks: I'm sooo sorry I take so long to update. I do hope you like this new chapter! Thank you!

Shannon: Yeees, Loki finally able to recognize something! Let's hope he doesn't take a step back.

Sarah: Oooh I'm just so happy you like my pre-Thor Loki. Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's longer, like you asked. I agree, smut for the sake of smut is not good. I was reading a really good story that devolved rapidly into it and I was very disappointed.

Excited reader: Darling, you are adorable! Thank you for reviewing most of the chapters. Thank you liking Kára so much! I give you guys a bit of a peek into Kára's dark past here but it's nothing but assumptions sooo…hope you will continue liking it and reviewing!

Jory: The feeeeels! I totally understand you. Thank you!

Debbie Lazarus: Well, let me know when you get them! I'm sure you'll do fantastic! Thank you, sweetie!

Leah: Thank you darling! Hope you will continue liking it and reviewing! Muah!

Anaya: Darling don't you worry! As always, thank you for a wonderful review! You made me cry! I can't believe I am your favorite. THANK YOU! This longer chapter is for you!

Mari: Thank you. You guys keep surprising me with your kind words. I feel overwhelmed. You are so very sweet! Hope you enjoy this new chapter.

Keira: I know! I almost wrote Kára addressing you. Thank you!

Guest: Thank you darling! Hope you can put your name in next time so that you know which reply is addressed to you. Thanks for your kind words! =)

Kylee: Hahah sweetie, you need to enable the private messaging in your account because I would love to send my reply privately. I just always seem to have so much to say! Thank your for pointing out I am missing a comma, which I am! HAHAHA you made me laugh so much with that comment about talking like da ghettos! My future sister in law would have said the same thing. OMG, google didn't pick that up! I'll let you in a little secret, I LOVE my thesaurus. *grins* I am actually scared about the amount of fangirling this chapter will have…nope! Don't read ahead! Just enjoy it! Hahah I thought of shrek too with that thing about the onion. And yes, I've looked into every interview Tom Hiddleston talks about Loki. His interpretation is the base for my own development of him…sooo, I hope I'm doing a good job! THANK YOU sweetie! You are absolutely WONDERFUL!

Guest: Heheh I won't pretend I don't enjoy making you guys suffer a little bit with all the tension building up. I'm a bit evil! THANK YOU!

Guest: Hope you like this next chapter! Thanks for your review!

Dani: Awww, I will! You will fangirl when I put all those tender feelings in him. I just know it!

Guest: Well, lovely, you prompted me into getting my butt back to work and here you go! Another chapter!

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**Chapter 11 – Heated**

* * *

It was well into mid day when Loki delivered Kára back at her ward. She thanked him once again and disappeared behind the veiled entrance, hurriedly. Along with her, his feelings of ridiculous jealousy dispersed into a vague discomfort.

They had not practiced. Kára had merely tried using the glove that fitted perfectly, to his immense satisfaction. At her request, he had promised he would leave everything the way he had produced it. Should she want to practice on her own, she had said, she wanted it just the way it was.

Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to set his mind right. She frustrated him in many, many ways. Their time together had been short and although Loki felt he had learned more from the lady than in the past, it left him dissatisfied.

She had talked for a long time, mainly about her family. She spoke highly of her sisters and her parents as any well bred lady would. The thing that defined it, however, had been the hidden devotion in her words.

It had been rewarding, all the information he acquired. She did not have a favorite color. Her favorite music was not the fabled symphonies of the hall of her father, but a more popular, merry tune. She loved children and considered herself one as well, even if she was well into the age of young adulthood. She was stubborn and aggressive with the things she believed in. She had denoted certain pride with an inability to accept help if the situation called for it. She was awfully homesick and more often than not, she felt morose about the prospect of staying longer in Asgard. Loki had learned that of all the things she missed the most were the many flowing rivers and creeks, the towering forests that Asgard seemed to lack, the fields of golden daffodils, the old man that told stories in the city square and a special kind of bird: a long tailed widowbird.

This was all just incidental information he had happened upon. All in all, Kára was a creature of the simplest bearings. Yet, she hid something. And it plagued him that she would not consent to tell him, even to his most subtle persuasion.

It was a fickle thing…the balance of his thoughts.

Loki always thought himself smarter than everyone. Well read and skilled beyond the usual measures, he excelled at most things he cared about. He had always had ambitious thoughts, driving him into success. What he did not know, he yearned to master. What confused him, he tried to make clear. And what eluded him, he would catch. It was only matter of time.

"Loki." A feminine voice called out suddenly. "There you are!"

He stopped, apparently distraught that he had not heard the first call. He walked out into the gardens, where his mother was extending a delicate hand out to him, his father by her side. It was odd to see Odin about in the gardens, but he could spare the time some days, when he felt particularly indulgent to his wife.

Loki loved his parents. It was a kind of love, he suspected, similar to Kára's for her family, but he had never voiced it aloud. It rooted deep inside him, depicting his every day actions into pleasing them. Even when he got into trouble, Frigga had always laughed at his little antics. Odin was more severe, as a king should be, but very deep inside, Loki knew he loved him. Perhaps he felt at times shunned out by the Allfather, but he tried to pay it little importance, using it instead as motivation. It was, after all, well known that Thor would inherit Asgard someday and his father dedicated everything into his instruction.

Loki tried not to be envious. He really did. The constant battle with himself was exhausting. The more he looked at Thor, though, the more he felt convinced he was not ready to be King.

But as he looked into his father's eyes, those weary eyes, he knew the time would come, perhaps sooner than he had originally thought.

"Mother." He addressed.

Frigga turned her cheek his way, expecting a kiss. When he kissed her cheek, she patted his own with a smile. "Your father would like a word with you."

"Loki." The Allfather's deep voice touched his soul in ways nobody could.

Odin Allfather loved his son. He had told him so on many occasions. As a child he was everything to Loki, everything a powerful warrior, a wise king could be. But all the cherished memories belonged to his childhood, where he would sit both his sons on his lap and tell them of the past, of the future. Never had Loki felt different. Never had he questioned his father when he would tell them of their duty, of their royal station, of the role they would carry on. Both were born to be kings. It had been that simple as a child.

Loki knew his brother felt it strongly too, the desire, the desperate need to prove himself. How can he be less that his father was? How could he be less than him to his mother, to the people of Asgard?

And Loki loved his mother with the deepest affection. In all his memories, Frigga was the gentle soul who knew how to be a warrior, a friend, a fierce defender of her realm and her family. He remembered her as the woman who would care for them day and night, who would sacrifice time for herself in view of their comfort. She was a mother, simple as that. And most importantly, she was his mother. Taking it upon herself to provide the more mellow lectures, she educated them in empathy and goodness, while becoming herself an advocate for both her children and her husband when it needed be. A mediator of sorts, she would often establish communications between the members of her family, when there was such a disagreement when both stubborn parts refused to cooperate. She did it splendidly.

Beautiful, loved, glorious. And she loved his father so. With every breath in her being she did.

He desperately wanted to make her proud. He desperately wanted to uphold his father's name with dignity and honor. Their blood ran in his veins. How can he be any less? He could do no less than make them proud.

Thoughts like these convinced him that as much as he loved Thor and as much as he wanted him to see it himself, the older prince did not view this role as profoundly as Loki did.

"Father." He bowed respectfully.

Odin inspected his son with a critical eye. He looked deep into his eyes, assessing, evaluating. It was common of him to have taken that stance now that both his sons had grown. "It has come to my attention," he began, "that you have taken a pupil in the arts of war."

Loki cursed beneath his breath. Somehow, he did not think his father would be pleased. But he stood straight and faced him squarely, as honor compelled him to. "I have, father."

The Allfather nodded, casting his eyes downwards as he took a deep breath. "Is Kára pleased with this arrangement?"

"Yes, father." Loki bit back a sarcastic response. If she weren't pleased then why would she continue seeking his instruction?

Odin nodded again, a pensive look upon his face. "I have heard word that she has not been very welcome among the ladies of our society."

"I..." Loki cleared his throat because somehow that didn't surprise him. "I was not aware of that."

"Poor thing." Frigga mused. "To be so far from home and alone. Many sacrifices must be made for duty."

"She is not alone." Odin spoke. "Folkvar was adamant to let her be accompanied by handmaidens of her realm."

"Indeed." Loki stated. "I have seen them. She seems happy, father. I do not doubt that she feels disheartened at times, but she's determined to maintain her oath."

"Good, good." Odin touched his shoulder. "Your mother and I are grateful for your hospitality. We have raised you well."

The young prince looked at his mother, who had an encouraging smile on her face. He felt elated. It was the first time in many, many years where he had received praised on his own. And he craved more.

"Thank you, father." It had felt like forever, since he had let such a smile grace his lips. It was wide and honest, so unlike his usual self.

These were the moments when an unexpected realization dawned and there was nothing else to be said. Loki stood there with a silly grin on his face and his father's awkward pat on his shoulder.

"Very well, then. You may go." With that, the Allfather returned to his party of gods, trailing after him.

Loki did not feel discouraged by this. Looking at his mother, he noticed a cheeky smile and how her gentle eyes withheld secret knowledge. After all, she knew him better than anyone. "Be sure you and your brother behave."

He smiled back sheepishly. As he passed, he gave his mother a playful shove, which she returned with a tender pat on his back and waving hands that sent him on his way.

* * *

There was always a sense of peace and overwhelming ignorance when Loki entered the Archives.

The building itself had not been lost to Asgard's splendor. The long hall was built with marble floors, enhanced with darker mosaics running down its middle, impeccable to the last detail. The hall was place to the more public areas of study, where long and short tables were placed in considerable separation from each other, the little lamps and glowing orbs making the study more comfortable.

Smaller passages branched out from the center of the grand room, where towering shelves kept books safe, from the floor all the way to the high domed ceiling. Along each small passage, simple designed columns rose, aesthetically decorated by busts and small statues at their base.

It was peaceful because it was silent and still. The ignorance came from the abundant quantity of knowledge held there, in every nook, in every shelf. It seemed never-ending.

This had been a safe haven for him. Often times, he found himself hidden in a more private desk with books all around, keeping him company as his mind grew in age and knowledge. He preferred this relative solitude, he supposed. It was comforting that not many people attended the Archives regularly. Somehow, it made him feel more important, as if he had discovered a rare treasure and it belonged to him alone.

The library itself had not changed at all. The Archives master kept volumes upon volumes in their utmost state. They were precocious to him as they were to Loki, whom he held in very high regard.

_Where to begin?_

It seemed impossible to be able to locate anything when the vastness of information knocked him about, especially when he wanted to find something very specific. His best venture, he concluded, was to seek out the elusive old man who took care of such treasures and ask him directly.

He was easy to find, even for someone to elusive as him. Loki knew him well.

Anundr had been master of the Archives for as long as he could remember. He served more as a mentor to him than anybody else and provided the rare comfort of his faith in him.

He was an old man, slightly slouched yet surprisingly resilient for someone his age. His bald head was often seen behind desks, followed by those critical, blue eyes, always on the lookout for any harm done to his precious books.

And that's how he found him, lecturing some unfortunate soul who had had the poor judgment to treat those tomes with less care than to any living children.

He coughed, wanting to divert the man's attention. As he turned, Loki greeted him with a good-natured smirk.

"Loki, my boy!" Anundr spared one last glare and lecture to the young man besides him then walked towards Loki with a springy step. "It has been some time since you've visited. Do you think you hold every enlightenment now?"

Loki smiled at those doubtful eyes. "No, sire. I've merely been occupied."

The old man raised his eyebrows but nodded understandingly. "Ah, I see." He raised a finger at him as he led them towards his desk. "Never forget: there is infinite knowledge and we must never cease to seek it."

He smiled, because he could never be anything other than a child in the master's presence. "Yes, sire." He took a deep breath. "In fact, that is the reason for my visit."

"Do not say more! The halls of study await you." Master Anundr waved his arm towards the great expanse of shelves as he took a seat.

"I was rather hoping you could do the honor of instructing me." His voice was formal. Anundr liked it best that way. Someone in rapt eagerness to know more.

"Well, of course. What is that plagues you?"

He suddenly felt ashamed. "The realm of the stars, I believe it is called."

Oh, how he disliked that look the old man was giving him. Anundr raised his eyebrows as he tipped his fingers together. He seemed stunned for a moment, before a cheeky smile began to form, emphasizing the lines of his face. "You mean, lady Kára's realm?"

Loki was a splendid liar, a wonderful deceiver and a skilled proficient of masking his emotions. For some reason, Anundr's knowing smile had reduced him to a blushing boy. Well, perhaps he wasn't blushing. It did feel that way, though. "Yes, I must confess myself curious. It is not often we have noble parties sent to work as commoners."

"I see you do not remember anything we taught you in your youth." Anundr shook his head, perhaps a bit disappointed. "Well, her realm is not the realm of the stars. It is the Realm of the Dying Stars."

"Dying Stars?" He furrowed his brows.

"Yes." The old man's expression was one reflecting how obvious his statement had been. "It is where stars go to die."

Loki seemed deep in thought so the master elaborated further. "When stars reach the end of their time, they descend towards the land and seek a place, somewhere private. Stars do not like to be seen, stars do no like to be touched or discovered. It is quite the event in Folkvar's kingdom. Nobody is allowed out of their homes for days."

"But how do they know?"

"Ah, well, it is quite obvious as they approach the land. The sky changes color, the weather becomes unpredictable, and at last an orb is seen descending, glowing in different colors, depending on the star's nature, of course."

"And that is the reason for their healing lands." Loki reasoned.

Anundr's eager eyes danced with a fire only teaching would fill him with. "Absolutely. It is a star's last will to save a life, so their essence impregnates the land and they simply fade." He put a finger to his lips. "I believe, if memory serves me right, the last one to die fell years ago, a few years after you were born. No other star has fallen since."

"I see."

"Now, if you'd like to know more I have a few volumes." His smile was kind and inviting.

"Yes, I believe I would like that very much."

* * *

Loki cursed for the tenth time.

He sat in a slightly secluded area of the Archives. The tall window behind him invited him to take part in more pleasurable activities, but he was caved in mountains of books.

For the first time, books had failed him. They had been useless. There was plenty of information on the realm's healing properties, its resources. There were very lengthy descriptions on the characteristics and uses of different plants and minerals, but there was nothing on the noble family ruling the land, except simple characterization and family trees.

Given the small amount of information, it seemed that was not as important as what could be gained from the land.

That is how Thor found him.

The older brother sighed as he looked at the evidently frustrated Loki, devouring book after book. He ought to enjoy himself more. He was too serious as of late. Thor cared for his brother. He loved him beyond belief and worried about this new change in him. It had not been long ago when they had played their last prank together. He missed those days. It seemed they veered in different directions now.

The austere attitude that had recently settled in his brother needed to be changed. It needed to turn into the old Loki. And that is exactly what he was going to do.

"Brother, what could you possibly be studying on a fine day such a this one?" His charming laugh brought Loki out of his reverie.

Still, he muttered. "Every day in Asgard is a fine day."

Thor was not easily deterred. "Come now, brother. The sun is about to set. Let us go a have a little fun, shall we?"

"Thor, I am busy." He sighed.

The blonde god slapped his back. "But Loki, it has been some time since we visited Olaf's merry place. I thought we could go tonight."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Last time we did that, all the blame fell on me, remember?"

"That was a little misunderstanding." Thor shrugged it off. It was so very like Thor, to dismiss such things. Her never did it to cause harm, but perhaps he was a bit absorbed in his own fun to notice.

The dark haired prince ran a hand through his head. Sure, he had gone about to their celebrations before and has always enjoyed himself. It had been a long time since the last one. He missed his brother when they were just the two of them.

"We shall have fun like we used to! Everyone else is coming."

His heart fell out at that. Somehow, he had hoped it would just be the two brothers, like they used to go about their fun.

"Say yes, brother. We need you to invite Kára. We thought about inviting her, but she might prefer you."

It pleased him to hear Thor say that, but he did not understand the reason. "Why would she prefer to be invited by me?"

Thor looked crestfallen for a moment, oblivious to his brother's silent pleasure. "Well, she seems close to you. Word has it that you have trained together in the valley. People have seen you. I assumed you were friends and she would prefer your familiarity."

Loki felt compelled to contradict him. "She considers you her friends as well." He thought for a moment, looking into his brother's blue eyes. "Alright. I shall make an appearance."

* * *

Kára was bored.

Staring at the fire's tongues, she threw a piece of bread at its hearth. She reprimanded herself once again for rejecting her handmaidens' offer to accompany them to what could only be considered a night of freedom from the usual activities. They had chosen to explore the city at night. Much to her dismay, Kára had ushered them off, promising she would be just fine taking care of the ward.

It seemed she had nothing better to do. The vials were all stocked. She had no one to take care of and the night was only just starting. She supposed she could go explore by herself, but she did not fancy getting lost on her own. Loki would not always be there to guide her back.

And now she was bored. Completely and utterly bored. She threw another piece of bread at the fire like a petulant child. With her chin in her hand, she stared at the nearest wall, apparently lost in a daydream. It was short lived, however, as a bird suddenly flew in.

Kára shrieked in astonishment and covered her head with her arms. Her heart felt like pounding out of her chest as her frightened pulse took over. The fluttering stopped but the bird kept singing.

It sounded awfully familiar, too. She dared a peek from beneath her arms and sure enough, a bird sat on the ledge of the fireplace. It was small and beautiful and she felt her heart clench at the familiarity. It was a widow bird. What a coincidence that she had been thinking about them today and suddenly Asgard was providing her with one.

She dared not approach it. They were easily scared. Perhaps this one had gotten lost and in a panic had wandered into her ward. But the bird eyed her intently, too willingly.

She whistled softly and the small black-coated bird flew next to her. It really was beautiful. Its tail was long and curled. The black feathers seemed to shine and she marveled at how docile he was being, even attempting to peck her hand.

There was something different, though. The contrasting color of the shoulders of its wings was not yellow or red as they usually were. It was a bright green, shining with a glow that she now noticed, seemed to emanate from its contour, outlining its figure with a soft light.

Before she had time to scrutinize it further, the bird curled upon itself and vanished into a ball of light that dissipated slowly until it was completely gone.

Kára smiled in understanding. She knew now who had sent the bird. The green had given it away. She ought to have known, the minute she was reminded of his eyes.

Smoothing the wrinkled of her labor gown, she stood and walked outside.

As certain as she had been, he was there, standing in her courtyard, imposing, impeccable in his black leather.

"I should've known it was you." She greeted him.

Loki smiled, a rare smile. "I thought you might appreciate the gesture."

She raised her eyebrows. "That you gave me fair warning or that you remembered I miss the widow birds?"

"Both."

She laughed. "Thank you. Both were very much appreciated."

And they stood silently, facing each other in serene contemplation. She looked shy and embarrassed for a reason, while he seemed thoughtful and expectant.

"Was there something you needed?" Kára asked.

Loki nodded and cleared his throat. "Yes. I come on behalf of my brother and company. We have an outing planned and we would like to invite you."

"What sort of outing?"

He was closer now and he laughed. "You just love to ruin surprises, don't you?"

Kára didn't know whether to be offended or to accept his comment as teasing. She wanted to go, very much. She was grateful they had thought about including her and she felt honored that Loki himself had come fetch her. She could lie to herself, but she was immensely pleased that he was back here, on her courtyard. A simple sort of satisfaction, but a very good one.

"Come, Kára. Do not be so morose. It would be good for you to explore the amusement we have to offer."

She quirked her mouth in apparent thought and eyed him doubtfully.

"My brother is waiting and we still have to meet him. Do it for a friend, at least."

She was quickly convinced, of course. "What should I wear?"

Loki raised an eyebrow. This seemed an incredibly petty question; coming from the person he least suspected it from. She swatted his arm, knowing how ridiculous she sounded. He laughed and pushed her towards her quarters. "Just wear whatever plain gown you have."

"Plain? Really, Loki…what sort of night have you got planned?"

"Trust me. You will have fun."

With a last push, she was off to her quarters to change, mentally making a choice of a plain gray gown she had. Its fabric was a rough and common but she supposed it would not matter. She only hoped her trust in him would not be ill received.

* * *

Kára sincerely could not remember the last time she had had this much fun.

Thor and Loki had led the way into the city, towards a partially hidden tavern of sorts. People crowded here and there, dancing, eating, laughing. It was a public ball.

It seemed everyone was well known as her company was quickly welcomed. As soon as they crossed the threshold, everyone changed. Thor was not nearly as loud as the music, or the cheers and screams of people. Instead her company grasped hands and attempted to pass by the crowds. Sif had a tight lock on her hand and she led her behind Thor.

More than surprised and with a wondrous laugh, she turned to Loki. He was not noticing her extended hand. She did not mind, though. He was laughing. It was the first time she had seen him laugh so sincerely, so openly. He was greeted by a few and rushed on by others but he was smiling and cheering with everyone, ducking as a servant passed drinks around and twirling the occasional girl who would dance in his direction.

The night wore on and she was dragged here and there, making introductions less than dancing. Formal ball protocols did not apply here and she had been whisked off to dance more than thrice already, even through her protests. There was nobody she knew here so she merely enjoyed it. It did not matter she did not know the steps or that she thought herself clumsy. She jumped and moved her feet with little care as she laughed.

Sometime during the evening, she noticed everyone had charged off into different areas. Thor joined the warriors by the wine while Sif was quickly led away to dance. Volstagg had not detached himself from the banquet table all night. She did not see Loki anywhere, so with the help of a very nice man, she found a spot to sit and simply watched.

It was a merry ambience and she was reminded of the lesser balls back home. The music itself was festive and joyful, quick and thumping, with hundreds of feet matching its pace as they hit the floor.

Loki had been watching her for a while. She had not been lying when she had said she lacked practice in dancing, but she had quickly caught on and soon enough, she was dancing the night away with strangers, men and women alike who formed circles and couples, everyone entwined due to the lack of space.

And now she was resting, clapping merrily as her flushed cheeks lightened her face. Her forehead and neck shimmered with a thin veil of perspiration. She fanned herself as someone offered her a drink. The man in question leaned towards her, talking closer to her ear, trying to make himself heard above the ruckus.

Loki waved his hand, now deeply annoyed. A cup went flying about, hitting him square on the chest, red wine splattered all over him. Embarrassed, he walked away to Kára's slight confusion and disappointment.

He walked behind the throngs of people, never once leaving her form from his sight. It seemed fitting, in remembrance of the time they met, that he asked her to dance. She could not deny him now. She could not excuse herself now with empty justifications.

He was right behind her now and she oblivious to his presence. She kept her merry claps and knee movements in rhythm with the music. He was so close now. If he talked, she would be able to hear him, even through the noise.

"Dance with me."

She turned to face him abruptly and if he had not moved, he was sure their faces would have collided. She had stopped her movements and was looking at him with the most dumbfounded expression on her face.

His hand was extended and his other placed his cup of wine on the table next to her. He smiled easily today, she noticed. It was quite a lovely change. His eyes were smiling too, a little glazed, and it was hard to resist the urge to say yes, or just take his hand.

"You've seen me dance, Loki. I don't…"

But she was cut off just as quickly as she had started her excuses, for Loki had taken her hand and pulled her flush against him. "Indeed, I saw you dance, which is why there's no reason why you should not dance with me."

She wanted to protest but couldn't, because there was no manner in which she could explain that with him it would be very different. Very different it would be to dance with someone who made her heart seem to stop its functioning, someone whose touches were not as innocent as those of a merely fun dance.

He knew of his effect on her. How could he not? She was too innocent, too naïve. It was so easy to confuse her little mind with a touch here or a word there. And in all honesty, he loved it.

It was a small prince to pay for the thoughts she had provoked in his mind and what she had caused in him. To be reduced to wondering if she was real enough. To question her secrets and to have her plague his mind when she had been less than desirable. It had all been so simple, before she came along.

At times he enjoyed her, at times he hated her. And he hated her now, because she was the indirect reason why he could not go back to Freyja. He hated her now because he was feeling deliciously heated by the wine and contact and he would not have a nude body to return to.

And now he had her little body pressed against him, her small fists pushing at his chest as her wide eyes danced on his face with slight fear. Her resistance was eliciting exquisite shivers down his legs, but she was effectively trapped between him and the ever-growing crowd of dancers.

She felt trapped. The air was much too thick. She felt she couldn't breathe. He was much too close and it terrified her. Because he was a prince, a full grown male with strength unmatched by hers.

His emerald eyes looked dangerous in the firelight. They held mirth and darkness. He said no words, but slowly ran a hand around her waist. Her dress was too rough, too thick to entice him and yet he felt tempted to press on. His poor judgment was the last thing on his mind as he moved his hand slightly downwards and pushed her lower abdomen against his.

He was touching her and she saw her own mind cloud in embarrassment and ignorance. Kára was confounded by the feelings arising in her chest. Small tremors shook her body, uncontrollable, unwanted. She was prey and he was predator. Everything was terrifyingly new and she felt compelled to reject it.

He dropped his head at her neck and breathed in her smell. He was close but not close enough. And he failed to see her stoic eyes planted firmly on his frame or the way she kept pushing him to let go. He did not see her close her eyes in silent anguish as he pressed her harder against him. Because she was reading this wrong and she had never been close to a man before.

He did not see anything, because he was too preoccupied with her mouth that seemed so deliciously full as she bit her lip, the wine she had been drinking having marked a slight stain on them.

And he was close.

He was so close…

* * *

**Oh! Btw, if anyone needs more visualization for the Archives, I think it looks like the Trinity College Library...but simpler,more aligned with Asgard's architecture. **

**Reviews encourage an author to write! Thank you! =)**

**You guys have made me an ADDICT for reviews. I love them. I crave them. I want them! Woohoo! Please excuse me, I'ma bit crazy since it's almost 4:30 and I have to wake up early tomorrow but I was just dying to give you this new chapter.**

**Now, it's off to bed with me!**


	12. His Innocence

**Hey guys! Please don't kill me! I'm so so sorry I haven't updated.**

**I've been away from a computer for quite a while. Last week, some friends and I had the opportunity to go help out in one of the poorest communities in the state soooo there's no electricity and obviously, no internet. It was a very rewarding experience, though. Makes you appreciate all you have a lot more and the people are just fantastic.**

**So, anyway, no excuses. I should have let you know I would take a bit longer to update.**

**For anyone still, reading, thank you! To new readers, WELCOME!**

**Btw…please, please, please don't kill me with this chapter. I know everyone's dying to see their kiss…and me, knowing how it will happen and that fact that it's already written, well I understand. I can't wait either! So I'll be trying to update sooner.**

**Also, I would like to encourage everyone who doesn't have an account to make one. I really really enjoy hearing from you all and would love to reply directly to each and every one, as I have been doing. Thanks!**

Guest: Thank you! More is coming soon!

Rey: Please don't kill me! I hope you like this chapter even if it's not what everyone is expecting. More is coming soon. Thank you!

Guest:Thank you, sweetie!

Guest (Excited reader): Thank you so much sweetie! Poor Loki he's more confused that he is willing to admit. Please, please don't kill me after you've read this chapter. I thoroughly enjoyed your review, thank you soooo much!

Kira: wow, you've written two books already? What are they about? I would love to read them! Thank you SO much darling!

Sarah: Thank you, sweetie! Your review was fantastic. So sorry this chapter is not what it seems. But I hope you will like it. Exactly, poor Kára has a lot of trouble keeping calm around him. And we'll learn why in this chapter. I hope you will forgive me for deceiving you guys with that last scene. Thank you once again and hope to hear from you soon!

Danielle: Hey girl! Sorry about the confusing parts of last scene, but read this new chapter and it could all become clear. Hope to hear from you again!

Leah: Ooooh, I don't think many of us would mind being in Kára's position, huh? But I'm sorry this new chapter is not what is seemed to be happening. I really am sorry! But it will be glorious once it happens. Thank you sweetie!

M: I'm soooo sorry! It will become better soon, I promise!

Guest: You make me blush! Thank you so much!

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CherryTree327: Sorry, darling! This new chapter is not what is seemed to be happening. I really am sorry! People will definitely murder me. I feel everyone will hate me now. =(

Guest: Thank you sweetie!

Debbie Lazarus: Hey there! How was your holiday? I really am sorry about what's going to happen. Trust me, though…when they finally kiss and do other things it will be glorious, I promise!

Guest: Sweetie, I'm so sorry I could not update before Thursday. I hope though that you enjoy your vacations! This chapter's for you when you get back and read it.

Guest: So sorry! I think I'll just crawl beneath a rock and die…because all the anticipation you guys have is making me feel extremely guilty about how I've conducted this new chapter. =(

Guest: Thank you darling!

Taylor: Aww, really? Hope you like this one!

* * *

**Chapter 12 – His Innocence**

* * *

Loki snapped out of his reverie, dazed and confused. For a moment, he forgot where he was standing and why people around him were so violently pushing against one another. His mind focused rather rapidly, amidst the chaos and dancing that seemed to be forming around him and inside him.

It is a powerful potential, that of the mind. It is believed it can drive people mad or create the sharpest individuals. And in between all the swirling pandemonium inside it, a very sane or rather insane mechanism surfaces to help cope and understand. Imagination is the effort of the mind to develop a concept of what is already there by the help of our reason, to develop the results of new thinking.

The very notion was absurd, of course. Because there was no account, within reason, of why he was imagining himself caressing Kára, the way he had just done.

His mind had degraded itself to even imagine her own reactions and train of thought, as he had predicted she would be in the given situation. He did not need this new thinking. It was senseless.

But he had imagined it, down to the last detail. He imagined her overwhelmed by his power, his very masculine intensity and it flared him inside, in a very basic nature. It had been…

Loki shook his head, disturbed by his thoughts.

He could only blame it on the wine. It was safe and it was an easy way out. He felt rather tired. Over analyzing this could be disastrous.

He liked Kára…as much as anyone liked a friend. Well, if they could call themselves that. She was caring and warm. She was a decent being, a bit too mellow for him, but he appreciated the peace felt when being around her. It was inexplicable that she could bring a very sense of reconciliation in him, something he had not seen before with anyone in Asgard. She was different than anyone there. Asgard's array of noble ladies was extensive, each and every one different than the rest. Yet, one thing connected them all. It was nothing he could precisely pinpoint, but it felt like emptiness. Excluding Sif, of course, ladies seemed to be engrossed in their everyday depthless routines.

He smirked, albeit a bit bitterly. Well, there was another thing associating them all and this time Sif could be included. They all held an astounding, venerating admiration for his older brother. He was their ultimate goal…their ultimate dream.

He looked ahead, right at Kára. She was still sitting where he had seen her last. It seemed he had become engrossed in his mind's ridiculous endeavor after he had seen the man talking to her, because he was still there.

She listened attentively at whatever it is that he was saying and he took the time to study her further from across the room. There was something about her. It was the way she carried herself or the way she reached out to others, but he still couldn't discern it. It disconcerted him. It should be unimportant. She should have been unimportant, but for some reason he lingered. She reminded him of simplicity, of his childhood.

Kára looked at the man offering her a drink. She would much rather be alone and enjoy the ambience but he seemed adamant to get her to talk. She complied as much as she could. Trying halfheartedly to listen to his enthusiastic telling of a rare pearl, her eyes wandered about the room.

There was so much happiness around. She enjoyed that life. There was much to learn from such humble origins. These people had much less than so many others she had met throughout her life yet they seemed to have much more. It showed in their walk, in their sincere smiles, in the rumbling laugh of a father or the simple attentions of a wife, the hopeful encounter between two individuals or the joyous bounce of the children.

She wanted all that. She needed all that. It was the only way for her to live. She could not deal with the suffering or the anger. It was something she had never understood. The cruelty embedded in someone's heart damaged others, immensely so, but it harmed the very person as well. The destruction around and within it was more hazardous than anyone normally thought so. But she could never understand why power and noble titles seemed to entwine themselves with crudeness and cruelty. She could not generalize, of course, but it had been so since she had been blatantly exposed to that circle.

So this felt like home.

Couples were dancing. Their quick steps had almost been too much to handle. Her self-consciousness had moved her rigidly at first. Kára was never the one in the middle of attention or the ruckus. She did not like it. Eyes on her made her uncomfortable but she could never explain why. Perhaps it had been developed throughout the years; perhaps it was something that had stayed with her since…

Whatever the reason, Kára was not normally as free as anyone could be. Her insecurities restricted her greatly. Her serenity masked it well.

To her surprise, tonight had unexpectedly changed that. It was the people around her. They were open and encouraging, as they pulled her about, moving her along with them. It had been either that or the forcefulness of the situation. She had to move or be trampled over. But they did not care about her awkwardness or the fact that she did not know the exact steps her feet should take. They did not care who she was. Everyone helpfully led her along to the next partner, to the next circle. They enlivened the spirits and Kára could not help falling along with them. For the first time in many years, she laughed at herself good-naturedly.

It had felt…

_Liberating._

It was almost an outburst to be free from the judging eyes of the nobility who eyed the outside of a person as if it was the only thing worth looking at, the entire entity. But she could fly here.

So she did and loved it.

Thinking about her life, she had thought Asgard would be a prison, but it had proved to be the opposite. She had gained independence from her own fears and although she still succumbed to many of her imagined slights, she felt she could now stand proud and jubilant, as she was. It had been an epiphany.

Her eyes roamed over the happy crowd, admiring the general cheeriness, coming to rest on a black clad figure, staring at her quite intensely.

He met her sight with a nod and she smiled slowly, trying to thank him with a look. Kára did not think he would understand what she was grateful for, but she wanted to show her appreciation anyway. She figured that without him, somehow, she would not have come to see this new life as a blessing, rather than a curse. It was not entirely true, but she held him responsible for at least some of that change of heart.

He looked too serious, Kára noticed. She had lost sight of him throughout the night and now she found him sitting not very far from her, apparently deep in contemplation.

She cocked her head to the side, attempting to catch his gaze, but he would not look at her. This was such a change from the happier prince she had seen when they had arrived. He had been excited, childish even as they snuck out of the royal grounds. There had been a slight bounce to his step and more smiles. Definitely more smiles.

Kára could not understand why he didn't smile often. It suited him. She had only caught a few since they met. Not smirks, not half smiles, but true actual happiness expressed.

She wondered if he could find it here too, in all the merry chaos.

Loki scoffed. The man was altogether attractive and it was predictable that Kára would succumb to his charms in a matter of minutes. But his bitter thinking had less to do with her than himself. No one chose him first. He wasn't repulsive at all, no. There were many maidens willing and volunteering to provide him with company and comfort. Some did it for the recognition and others for the thrill of going into the bed of mischief itself. Yet he was no one's pedestal hero. Even Freyja, who claimed to yearn for him eternally, cast him aside when it suited her.

Lost in the chain of his thoughts, he did not see how Kára had been looking at him. She chewed her lip, a bit nervous, a bit concerned.

He looked up just in time to catch her excusing herself, dismissing the man as politely as she could.

And she was walking towards him, making her way across the room with difficulty. Many people were roaming about and it became impossible to see her after a while. It was not until she plopped down on the seat besides him that he knew it was him she had come for.

"Do you not dance, prince Loki?" She asked after a while. There was a slight teasing in her voice and it made him remember the night they had first met.

He turned on the stool to meet her, face to face. She still looked timid, like the first time he addressed her, but the smile she wore was not nervous, as it had been that night. Instead, she looked excited, a wide arch forming her lips, urging him on a game he caught easily. There was no malice, no lewd tone in her voice.

So he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief…at her antics, at himself.

"I do not, milady." He inclined his head, mimicking the words she had replied him with the night she arrived on Asgard. He tilted his chin up, almost daring her.

Kára laughed, pleased that he had reversed the roles. "But you have been instructed, have you not?"

"Yes, I have." He conceded. "It is the lack of a partner that keeps me seated."

Alright, so he had altered their original encounter. Quickly, she urged him on. "Surely the prince of Asgard could have his choice of a partner among the many ladies who roam his path."

He laughed, because it was true and false all at the same time. "You speak the truth. But I am currently indulging myself to an intoxicating beverage" Her banter was not sharp, but it was made him light hearted. "And I do not see you dancing!" He leaned closer. "Or is it that you do not dance, either, milady?"

She shook her head bashfully then met his gaze. "I do dance. When the situation calls for it."

She had said the very words he had said and it was nearing the moment when he had asked her to dance. He wondered if she would do the same.

"I see." He nodded. Looking around, he gestured at the people with a swing of his arm. "Well, there's plenty of…"

He was caught off as she quickly grabbed her arm and pulled him out of his seat. "Dance with me." She said.

She was much smaller than him, he noted. She tugged his sleeve excitedly, her eyes almost closed as joy reached them. She pulled him about, towards the crowd. He grabbed her wrist, halting her movements and she looked momentarily surprised, but amused.

"I thought you did not dance, Kára." He teased.

She raised her eyebrows. "I never dealt in that absolute. I said lack of practice willed me to my seat. And now that I have been forced into it gave me the much needed practice."

He allowed himself be led by her small hands, an incredulous smile tugging his lips. "So I noticed."

Kára looked back, a bit embarrassed that he may have noticed how awkward she had been at first. "Come now." She said. "I did not look that bad." She muttered.

Loki dodged an over excited woman who almost caught his ribs in a powerful jab. "I did not say that. In fact, I was expecting much worse, but you will be glad to know that you have proved me wrong."

She saw his eyes twinkle and knew he meant no harm. His fun banter was light for her benefit. And she was, once again, grateful. She had never taken the initiative before, except when she had been a small child. But Loki had looked so depressed, so unlike everyone around him that she felt a tugging in her heart, pulling her towards him. She had wanted to see him smile. And there was something in the air the provoked their whole demeanor to be airy, without consequence.

"Well, I had good teachers." She chuckled, addressing the dancing crowd with her eyes.

Loki pulled her into a circle, joining others as they danced. "I would have taught you better." He whispered conspiratorially.

Kára bit back a laugh as she gave him a doubtful look. "Loki, you are a wonderful teacher in the art of war. But I somehow think dancing escapes your skills."

She shoved him slightly with her shoulder and he was surprised to see this change in her. She was carefree, unrestricted even. For a moment he thought of blaming it on the wine. Everything could be blamed on such a dangerous beverage. But he remembered she did not drink it.

"I'll have you know," he started in a mock offended voice. "That battling could be compared with dancing."

She stood there with a silly grin on her face and her hands clasped calmly behind her back. Her eyes were wide open as she made a movement of her head, asking him to indulge her. Without warning, she pushed him into the crowd, where many hands reached out for his, pulling him into the dance circles. He had not choice but to move.

Kára grinned behind her covered mouth. Loki was looking at her with surprise as he was being pulled. His predicament was obvious, as the crowd would not let him go. It was absolute that he would stay until the dancing finished.

"You should not have done that." Thor's mighty voice was near her ear. He stood tall beside her, his eyes fixed on Loki with a pleased smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She said. She was looking at him too, a playful look on her face. He mouthed something, a promise of revenge, but she ignored it. Her hands waved him on.

Thor laughed. "Oh, Kára. I hope you're ready for retaliation."

"What?"

The blonde prince's face expressed mock surprise. One eyebrow raised, he leaned down at her. "You can't expect to try to trick my brother without retribution."

She knew he was joking but she still wanted to explain herself. "I meant no harm. I just wanted to see him smile. He looked a bit unhappy."

"A noble cause, I'm sure." Thor commented. He eyed her from the side. She was too enthralled in watching his brother's happiness. He would not blame her if she were a bit enamored with him. "You two have become close, Kára."

Her smile fell for a moment but he failed to notice. "Well, we have spent some time training." She commented.

"Are you good friends?" Thor asked, and he could not have been more pleased. The Loki he was looking at was a pleasant change from the one constantly poring over books.

Kára nodded. "Yes, he's a wonderful friend. As you all are." This was very much like her. Diplomatic comments so as to never hurt anyone, so as to never give too much away.

"But he is something special, isn't he?" Thor was moving behind her.

"You all are very special, Thor…Wait, what are you doing?" Kára yelped as he pushed her forward.

Thor wiggled his eyebrows. "Retaliation." He simply said.

And in a quick flash, she saw a hand shot out and grab her arm. She tried to jump aside, but Loki caught her easily.

"Oh, no, you don't," he laughed at her feeble attempt to escape. "You're coming with me."

So he pulled her to the mass, a youthful game close to his heart as they joined hands with the crowd. He was reminded of two naughty children caught in play.

His insides knew what his rationality would not recognize. It had been something in her innocent games, in her unknown demeanor. He could not remember that last time he had felt thus…childish, carefree, and joyous.

He decided he quite liked it.

* * *

Kára awoke later than usual, feeling rested and content.

Last night had been an unexpected change from her usual routine. It had been years since she had last had this much fun. Thor, Loki and their company had been most gracious throughout the night. They had even accompanied her back home, where her handmaidens had prudently waited until everyone left and then started their merciless attack.

"Up, up, up!" Ástrid sang as she poked her head past the screen in her room.

"What time is it?" Kára asked.

Bergdis came in behind Ástrid, raising an eyebrow. "It's well past midday, Kára. You slept all morning."

"Oh," The dark haired maiden sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize. It has been a while since you came back with such a grin on your face." Ástrid was quick to make notice of it.

Though Bergdis gave her a look, she still held a twinkle in her eye. "Are we to blame prince Loki for that?"

The young maiden ran a hand on her face. "No." She replied, though she could scarcely believe it herself. "It was the general ambience. It reminded me of home."

"Did you have fun?"

She looked up from sitting on her bed, sheepishly trying to hide the faraway look on her face. "Very much so."

She went to sit on her vanity, glancing at the face in the mirror. She looked satisfied, though a bit tired still. Garbbing her brush, she passed it through the strands of dark hair, tousled from sleep. Ástrid was at her side in an instant, taking the brush from her and combing the hair on the back of her head.

"You're smiling more every day." She whispered.

Kára blushed and tried to look away, but it was futile, as her reflection gave her away. "Am I? I hadn't noticed."

"Yes, you have and you should not try to deny it. We've known you for a long time."

"What are you two talking about?" Bergdis called out from the back.

"That we have noticed she is smiling more." Hey honey eyes shone in a conspiracy.

"You deny it?" Her older handmaiden asked.

Kára shook her head, a bit mortified. "No, I just…I did not think it was obvious."

Ástrid rolled her eyes. "Of course it is! You should look at yourself when he comes in the room. You light up, Kára. It's like something is setting you ablaze."

"This has nothing to do with him." She denied.

"Kára, we have been best friends forever. Since when have you decided you cannot trust us?"Bergdis put a hand on her shoulder, apparently concerned at the adamant denial.

The dark haired lady looked hopelessly through the mirror at her handmaidens. She dropped her gaze to her hands set in her lap. "It cannot be about him. It must not."

"Why not? Look at yourself, Kára. You're happy and it's because of him. You have constantly had this far away look on you face and then you start smiling out of nowhere. When have you felt this way before?"

"He is just a friend." She ground out.

Bergdis kneeled beside her, her hand coming to rest on top of hers. "You are worth everything, Kára." She spoke calmly yet determined. "I know you think you're not. Why can't it be about him?"

"I…" she started but could not bring herself to get the words out. "These are just hopeless illusions. I feel happy with him because no one has ever shown me that kind of attention, but I got the same one from Thor as well."

"But there is something different about him, Kára. Something you have noticed too."

"He is a prince and we are here to serve." She dropped her tone, apparently trying to end the discussion.

"Yes, he is a prince and you are his equal, Kára! Can you not see? Or is it that you don't want to see? What are you so afraid of?" Ástrid almost yelled, frustrated at her constantly bringing herself down. It was exhausting dealing with her lady sometimes. Her childhood traumas had affected her greatly and it made her mad that she could not find a way to help her see that she was worth the happiness, the peace.

"Please let's not argue." Kára ground out as she put a hand to her forehead. She could feel the signs, the pounding in her head…

_Please, not now…_

"Alright, alright…" their soothing voices called her back. "I'm sorry. No one is upset. Let's take a calming breath."

Kára could not blame the stray laces of fear she heard in their voices. For their sake, she tried her best to empty her mind, bring back all the serenity she could muster.

"How are you feeling?" Bergdis asked.

"I am better, thank you. I'm sorry if I scared you."

The blonde haired handmaiden dismissed it, knowing any altercation would upset her further. "There's no need for that. There shall be no frowns today, or have you forgotten?"

Kára shook her head, though she did not admit that she had, in fact, forgotten about the summer festival, which would take place tonight. It had been a most anticipated event for her friends. They had longed to attend since they had been invited. Being guests at the Hall of Odin seemed to bring them back to a frenzy as they discussed plans for that very evening.

"She forgot." Ástrid commented.

"I did not!" Kára looked alarmed at being caught.

"Come now, Kára. You have been invited to the bathhouses to get ready."

"Must we go?" She complained.

"I'm sorry, dear. We must."

Kára nodded, feeling defeated. So much for the bright spirits she had acquired last night.

The bathhouses were grand, basking in the luster of Arsgardian architecture. The gardens at the entry were clean and properly trimmed, Kára noticed, as another maiden was leading them towards the inside. Attendants walked about, dressed in white robes. Unlike the ones they wore in the healing grounds, these were airy and flowing, apparently the very essence felt when entering the building itself.

They passed through many curtains. Some beaded, some waspy, some as heavy as to shield the privacy from prying eyes.

The marble shone across, an impeccable aura of cleanliness in every space. They went up the staircase ahead. Water was everywhere. Running through artificial creeks, or falling from crafted waterfalls into silver basins. White columns rose around, the next one being higher than the one before until they reached the very top, where a magnificent pool was built on a raised dais of mottled marble. Small trees grew on the inside of the room, providing a connection with the grounds.

And Kára would have instantly enjoyed the essence of the nature of the room, if she hadn't been subjected to bathe along with some of the most famous ladies in Asgard.

Freyja smirked as she took in the girl being led inside. Being in the bathing pool, she had quite the extensive view of everything happening around her. So when Kára had entered, looking awed, she marveled at her good fortune. Just the perfect time to put her plan into action.

She had to go. Though Freyja felt less than threatened by the dark haired foreigner, it just would not do to have Loki spending so much time with her. He was her prince and no one else's.

"This will be your setting, my lady. Her grace has informed us of your visit. We hope you will find everything suitable." Her attendant addressed them with such a professional manner. Ástrid raised her eyebrows at Kára, making the other giggle. "I will be back shortly."

Kára nodded. "Thank you."

Bergdis and Ástrid set about to undress her, pulling at the delicate sash of her gown.

It was uncomfortable, to undress and bathe in front of others. Such a custom was not a strange one, even back in her realm. She and her sisters often attended bathhouses together, but this was different.

There was a cluster of ladies, trying to cover their curious looks as they stared at her from inside the pool. She sighed.

_Let it be over soon._

She disrobed quickly and loosened her hair, trying to cover as much of her body as she could. Bergdis led her up to the steps of the pool, where she quickly walked down the first steps into the water, not caring at all if it was warm or cold, just wishing to disappear beneath it.

Kára hated being looked at. She did not consider herself to be beautiful. And this was in itself such a big flaw in her. Her lack of confidence manifested itself in her growing years, as subject to the criticism and wonder of why she did not look like her sisters.

Instead of the perfect image they portrayed, Kára looked quite plain. She had stood in the mirror once before, scrutinizing her body. The damage had been done and she would never look at herself again. She had looked at her feet and legs, traveling up where they widened at the hips. She disliked her hips. They were too big. In reality, they were not big enough to exaggerate her way of thinking but she disliked how it made her feel disproportionate. Her waist was small enough, she supposed, but her tummy was not flat. Her bust was small and delicate, but in no way did that comfort her. Once, he had overheard a young man in the city square talking about how all boys liked enlarged busts.

It must have been subject of a few months, when she had realized that she was not perfect. Far from it, in fact. So she started comparing herself, a most hurtful thing to have done. It had been unwise, certainly, but she had wanted answers of why she could not be as pretty as her best friend, or as adored as her older sister.

Proper nurture and care was needed and with the help of her mother and handmaidens, Kára grew accustomed to her body. Never confident of it, but less poisoned in her eyes. She had settled in the fact that while she was not as attractive as many blessed creatures, she could still find happiness.

It became obvious, she had noticed, that such happiness would not be shaped in the form of a loving partner, when her age had set and she had yet to find a match for her. Her parents had been encouraging, but she was not fooling herself. Attraction was a quick catch for eventual love, so she was at a disadvantage already.

As that's why, she could not allow herself to be immersed in thoughts of how Loki made her smile or how she, indeed, lit up when he came to see her. It would eventually break her heart if she continued down this path; a very secretive one only she knew was unwinding. So she prevented it, by befriending him. He was a friend; nothing more, nothing less.

From across the water, Freyja's smirk deepened and her eyes shone with pleasure. Oh, how could she have been worried? This girl would never be as attractive as she was. By Odin, she was never going to arouse such passions in her prince. It was ridiculous to believe so.

Loki had felt pity, Freyja decided. Yes, he had. That was a strange approach in itself. Loki was usually not so charitable and she was proud to think she knew him better than anyone.

"Kára." She called sweetly at the girl on the far end of the pool. "Come join us."

Her voice was laced with honey and false smiles. The dark haired girl approached her warily. She did not like being in the company of such judging eyes.

Still, she smiled shyly, feeling a bit hopeful at having been included among the other ladies of the realm.

"Everyone," Freyja called out, her magnificent turquoise eyes roaming her friends. "This is Kára. She comes from another realm."

A few offered her smiles that she was quick to respond to.

"You're welcome to join us, of course." Freyja continued. "We could use more females in this particular conversation."

"Thank you." Kára smiled. Her naivety was almost palpable and the redhead felt the sick thrill of a predator hunting her food.

A blonde asgardian with beautiful green eyes addressed her. "We have just been discussing the male population of Asgard." She spoke airily and Kára was reminded of the wind on the plains. "We have some very fine exemplary warriors, don't we? Why, Fandral alone could put them all to shame."

"Oh, I..." Kára hesitated.

"What do you think, Kára?" Freyja spoke as she toyed with the flowers floating in the pool. "Asgardian men are simply delicious, aren't they?"

She did not like her tone of voice and she did not quite know what she meant by delicious, so she merely contemplated her answer. "The asgardian population is very beautiful, yes."

"Isn't she delightful?" Another woman called as they all chuckled.

"I have been told…" the blonde haired spoke, a tentative smirk on her face showing curiosity. "That you seem to be Loki's new pet."

A few snickered and Kára felt her smile fall as the curious eyes set on her. The blonde haired, called Eiri, threw Freyja a malicious look.

Kára was at a loss for words. Feeling trapped, she adverted her eyes, trying to catch Bergdis or Ástrid.

"Of course," Eiri continued. "It is Freyja who would know all about it. She is Loki's favorite."

Freyja waved her hand. "Do not trouble yourself. Eiri is merely teasing."

"Prince Loki is training me. That is all." She said. It upset her. She had once again been deceived by false smiles.

"Oh, we know, darling." Freyja laughed. "Loki would never have you as a pet. He likes his women…" and she roamed her eyes over Kára, cocking her head to side, a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, different."

Kára felt the comforting sensation of the warm water wash away, as the cold slap of her insult washed over her.

"Oh, Freyja, do not be bashful." Another one of her friends admonished. "We all know Loki favors only you."

"Yes, well. We make a striking pair, do we not? It is me who he needs to be at his side. Oh, have I told you about the last time we shared a bed? He always comes back. It is unimaginable for him to send me away. He yearns for me as I for him. And you must have seen the look on his face when I dominated him that night."

Kára felt sick. Somewhere deep in her insides, her whole body was churning, distorted at the dull ache of disappointment settled. She looked around, feeling more different than ever.

She disliked them all, who made other people suffer. They were perfect in every way but for their ugly, black hearts.

She hated that way they were talking about him. It was insulting. He deserved better. He, who had been such a wonderful friend to her; he, who had displayed such an innocent nature last night while dancing warranted their respect, not their brazen attitude. She did not want to think of Loki that way. It was almost impossible for him to be the same prince Freyja was talking about most crudely.

Brazen details of their nights together were carelessly voiced, like a meaningless conquest. And for a moment, Kára did not think they were both thinking about the same dark haired prince.

A calm indignation settled upon her. "You should not be talking about your prince in that manner."

All eyes turned to look at her. Freyja's own satisfied smile disappeared. "Oh, I'm sorry." She spoke sarcastically. "Have I upset you?"

Kára held her ground, because she felt the need to protect him. It was irrational but it made perfect sense to her. "He is your prince and deserves your respect."

Freyja approached her, gliding across the water. "He is my lover and I will talk about him in any way I deem appropriate."

"He may be so, but he is your sovereign first and foremost. You will not talk about him in any disrespecting manner while in my presence." Her voice shook as well as her hands and they clenched together in fists. Kára had no idea where her protectiveness was coming from or why the way she talked was affecting her so much. It was a monster deep inside, surfacing with blazing anger, slowly building higher.

A few of them gasped, others covered their mouths in shock. "Have you any idea who I am?" Freyja lost all civility as she snarled. "I will have you thrown out."

"You most certainly will not!" Ástrid's voice was filled with outrage as she neared the edge of the pool, beckoning Kára towards her.

Freyja shot her a dismissive look. "Stay out of this, servant and know your place."

And Kára snapped. If anything could be said about her, is that she was protective of her beloved ones, friends and family alike. She would lay down her life for them.

"Servant?" Her handmaiden's cry of outrage was shrill. "You glorified harlot!"

"Enough!" Kára shot out, a calm anger in her eyes. "Listen to me well, Freyja. I will never have you address my attendants again. You believe yourself superior to them, to almost everyone. I know your kind. They have a higher station than you do and as such you will respect them or face the consequences." She spoke calmly, because she had to. She would not reduce herself to a common fighting girl. "As for me, I don't ever want you talking about Prince Loki in the manner in which you just did. It is his private affair if he wants to bring filth into his bed and if I were you, I would not be parading that around."

"My lady." Someone was calling out to her and she recognized the attendant who had previously left her. She looked alarmed. "Is everything alright? Should I call for her grace?"

Freyja's eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly.

"No, thank you. There are no problems here, are there, Freyja?"

And she could feel the hate directed at her as Freyja pursed her lips, ashamed and enraged. So she was of noble birth and in the queen's personal care, it seemed. Kára raised her eyebrows, silently daring her to contradict her.

The red haired girl was not foolish. Any step out of line and she could be facing consequences she was not ready for. "No, there are none…" she ground out with a cold smile. "My lady."

Kára could feel the beginnings of a headache approaching. Inwardly alarmed, she quickly swam away, towards the edge where Bergdis was waiting with her clothing. "Kára, should we say something?"

"No, Bergdis. She is not worth the trouble."

Freyja stood stoically in the pool as a think silence pressed around them. Her friends adverted her eyes. A few of them threw venomous looks at the retreating party while others whispered worriedly among themselves.

"You did not say she was nobility." Eiri whispered frantically. "And we just insulted her greatly."

"Do not worry." Freyja said. "She won't say anything."

"How can you be sure?"

Freyja chuckled, though without humor. "Because I know her kind as well." But even as she had fooled herself into thinking Kára to be a weakling, she did not count on her snapping.

Perhaps she had crossed a line and that only told her that her prince had gained a fierce protector…one she intended to get rid of as soon as possible.

* * *

**Please, please, please don't kill me!**

**I know many wanted them to kiss already. But it's not time yet...I promise it will happen and trust me, it will be far more exciting that what I wrote in the previous chapter. **

**I'm a bit worried about Freyja, though. What is she going to do!**

**I'm already working on the next chapter. I'm trying to make it up to you guys. ****Please don't hate...if you don't hate me, then let me know!**

* * *

**I love getting reviews. Your comments are always inspiring and fantastic. They encourage me to keep writing and fast, because really I just love you guys! Hope everyone is having a marvelous weekend!**


	13. Awake

**Hi everyone! **

**First, I would like to apologize for the delay in uploading this chapter. I had a huuuge project to hand in tomorrow. Today, however, we got an e-mail, pushing the due date up until Monday. I, of course, threw it aside and immediately put myself to writing. **

**It's almost 3 am but I've finally finished this chapter for you guys!**

**As a special thank you for your patience, I've made this almost 2,000 words longer. So ENJOY!**

**In other news: I got 104 reviews for last chapter! SAY WHAT? I am humbled by how sweet and encouraging everyone is! THANK YOU!**

**I seem to be getting some complaints that I reply to every single one of the reviews and then post them with the chapter. I realize this may seem very annoying, for which I humbly apologize. **

**To fix that, secretly hoping I still get another 100 reviews, I have decided to thank everyone who doesn't have an account, here: **

**lilymarielle . livejournal . com**

**If anyone wants to see the many thanks I will give, they will be posted in my livejournal. They may not be complete yet, because I have to go out real quick but they will be posted, I assure you. I know many don't read the thanks, but I still want to show how grateful I am. Sincerely.**

**Alright, then…ON to the story!**

* * *

**Chapter 13 – Awake**

* * *

"Breathe."

"Please, Kára."

Their voices were begging her to calm down. She could faintly hear them. They were so far away because the nearest sound was her own mind ironically screaming at herself to muster every ounce of peace she could.

After so many years of doing just that, it came quickly. It was strange, however, that her own techniques were less efficient lately. It frightened her.

"Slowly, slowly. Take deep breaths." Surprisingly enough, it was Ástrid who spoke in such a soothing voice. Bergdis was rubbing her back comfortingly as they led her back to her quarters.

"I'm feeling better." Kára spoke, her voice sounding drained, tired. She touched a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "I just need time."

"Yes, of course."

"Come, Kára. We should go back. We will wrap you up in some warm clothes and…" Bergdis was caught off.

"No."

"No?" Ástrid was the first to protest. "But you must rest."

Kára shook her head, sorrow in her eyes. "I do not think it will be enough anymore."

Her handmaidens shared a look, unsure of how to proceed. "Tell us what you need." Bergdis was braver; it was noticeable in her steady tone, but still unsure.

"I will go alone."

"We won't let you." Ástrid's voice was fierce. Her loyalty was unwavering.

"Please, do not worry. I don't want you to be afraid. I was merely thinking of going down the valley and practice for a bit."

"Do you think it will help?" Bergdis asked. "To channel everything into battle? You have never done that before."

"I have never battled before." Kára agreed. "But this is not battle, it is merely practice. I hope it leaves me so tired…nothing else could happen if I'm exhausted." Her own theory sounded doubtful in her mind. "Even so, we have never tried that before. It could help."

"We're coming with you, then."

"Absolutely not." Her voice changed quickly, now resolute.

Both young women looked startled for a second, perhaps a bit wary, but Kára smiled gently. "I have known you both long enough to know you have been awaiting this day with barely concealed anticipation, ever since we were invited to the festival to be specific." She chuckled, hopefully indulging them in some humor. "I would not dream of robbing you of such a pleasant occasion."

Ástrid shook her head. "We are not going without you."

"Yes, you will." She repeated, sternly. "You have been invited and it would be impolite not to attend." Her eyes softened. "Please, just have a wonderful time tonight. I will be perfectly alright, I promise."

The younger handmaiden opened her mouth to protest, but Bergdis put a hand to her shoulder, shaking her head. "Will you join us later?"

Kára sighed. "I do not believe so. I suppose I will be all right by that time, but I do not feel like dressing up tonight. But you will tell me everything about it later, will you not? Every dance? Every lord who will dare try to conquer your unattainable hearts?" She gave them a cheeky grin, hoping they would feel reassured by it.

Bergdis understood her need to be left alone. It showed in her knowing gaze. "We shall tell you every single detail."

Kára nodded. "Now, I want you both to go back to the grounds and get ready. You are representing our realm tonight."

She let them go, a dejected sigh issuing from her younger friend as the blonde haired handmaiden pulled her away.

Kára watched them with a heavy heart, but turned and walked briskly in direction towards the edge of the city and down into the valley, the sun still high on the sky.

It had not taken her as long as before to get there, given that she lost no time admiring the sights or bumping into people. When she got there, the sun was barely starting to set. Given the anticipation for tonight's festival, she found the grounds to be deserted, only the sounds of birds accompanying her.

She clutched the leather case tight in her arms, the one she had made a stop at the healing ward to pick up, and approached the axis of the practice area Loki had set up.

As soon as he entered her mind, she felt another rush of anger and shame. It was not directed at him, though, but at Freyja.

She ought not to have done that, talk to her like that. She had been right in what she had said, Loki's business was no concern of hers and she had no right to meddle in his affairs with such an awful woman.

It had just been so insulting. It was downright degrading. Kára had felt sure that no matter how close Loki and Freyja were, he would not take it too lightly if he knew she talked about him that way. That had been before. Now, she wasn't so certain. Loki and her were growing close, yes, but how close? Granted, she knew little of his affairs, especially those including maidens from the court. Perhaps Freyja was his favorite indeed and he would not take in kindly the way Kára had spoken to her.

There was something about Freyja, though. Something in they she spoke about him. There was not love or cherish. It was raw hunger. But for what? Perhaps what stung her the most had been her insult and looks, which had been offensive in their own accord.

Kára felt herself flush in shame, then felt anger for feeling ashamed of herself. How dare she make her feel like the most unattractive woman in the realm? How dare she look down at everyone around her? What made her believe herself so powerful?

Raging thoughts assaulted her mind, carrying embarrassment and shame, anger and sadness. She could feel the same insecurities resurfacing, same as it had been back home. She shook her head angrily.

_I am not worthless._

No, she was not. But Freyja had taken pleasure in making her feel that way: so out of place, so not enough. She had scrutinized her body with a smirk on her face she now recognized as mocking and openly laughed at her, ridiculed her, telling her she would never be enough for him, for anyone. How would anyone ever desire her?

Kára felt herself scream inside. Angry tears were pooling in her eyes and she forcefully opened the leather case, her hands shaking. She could feel it coming, the great waves of heat inside her.

The leather case fell to the grass, laying open with a few daggers coming out of their strains. She grabbed the nearest one between her fingers, and then turned in an almost a desperate need to find the most challenging target.

She screamed with anger and frustration as she swung her arm savagely towards the target, somehow imagining it was her. Her and everyone who had ever made her feel less.

The dagger flew across, missing it entirely.

She did not stop.

Kára grabbed every dagger and kept throwing the weapons, screaming her humiliation away. The skirt of her heavy robes entangled themselves in her legs, often throwing her off balance but she kept on going with such ferocity. The tears stained her face but did not erase her frown or her pursed lips, or the feelings inside. It went on for hours, it seemed.

She became exhausted, drained of emotion and energy. Her daggers lay discarded across the ground before her, some still attached to the targets she had successfully assaulted. She stood in the middle of the practice area, panting and occasionally wincing. Her muscles ached all over. It had been satisfying, pouring all her fears and anger into battle movements. With every throw, she felt part of her rage fly along with it, to be replaced with more reasonable thoughts.

She looked around at the solitary land. She was quite alone. Alone with her thoughts, away from them. Safe.

With a sigh, she dropped herself to sit on the boulder right behind her and closed her eyes, feeling the wind caressing her face in an almost comforting and loving way.

* * *

Loki paced the Hall with almost lazy tranquility.

It seemed to be much crowded than it used to be. He wouldn't have minded, really, but today this seemed to annoy him thoroughly, because it prevented him to find her easily.

The festival had only just started, but it felt like it had been dragging on forever. He sitting quite alone, with a wine cup firmly grasped in his hand. He was half expecting someone short and smiley to sit besides him, like she had done the night before. Instead, she was nowhere to be found and he dwelled in his thoughts further.

She had chosen him first. This was the train of thought he had been deviating to all day long. It was something that had impacted him deeply, but he had not realized it until much later. He wondered why she kept invading his mind, always in the same memory.

He could not quite understand why this particular remembrance kept bursting out in the most inopportune moments and even when his mind was blank. He tried to recall more details but had been in vain. The longer he thought about it, the more easily it escaped him.

She had come to him last night, among the dancers and sat by his side. She had smiled at him, that very familiar smile of hers and had taken care of his happiness like her own.

Sitting in quite a familiar fashion of last night, it suddenly dawned on him why he felt so attracted to such event. Loki was never chosen first. He knew that and was painfully aware of it. She, however, had done so. He remembered she had been talking to a man, a decent looking asgardian. He had seen her talk and smile placidly and he had scoffed at her meekness. Because no one had been around him and he was feeling envious. But she had come to him, dismissing everyone else entirely to come to him.

No one else had mattered but him in her eyes. It had been just like their first meetings and he had felt a wicked pleasure in that. It soothed his ego, but not corruptively. It was something else entirely and he still found it difficult to understand what was it about it that felt so different.

Even in his own mind, he felt a curious sort of awe at such discovery. He was a priority. Oh, he felt elated. How could something to simple and childish matter so? His vanity was pleasantly caressed, his pride heating his insides in some sort of twisted deviation.

_She promised to be here._

He walked around the long tables, mingling among the guests. Some stopped to greet him and he politely excused himself.

It wasn't until much later that he came across Kára's handmaidens, standing together off to the side, smiling serenely at whoever passed by. The auburn haired one, Ástrid he believed her name was, sighted him first and her expression changed so suddenly he was almost taken aback.

She was glaring at him with a mutinous expression. She eyed him up and down and turned her head away indignantly. She bent and whispered something to Bergdis, who simply shook her head and kept looking in another direction.

Loki walked up to them, feeling a bit wary as to the reason of their distaste.

"Bergdis, Ástrid, good evening." He nodded in greeting.

"Your grace." Bergdis curtsied and delivered a sharp elbow to Ástrid's side, encouraging her to do the same, but the younger handmaiden rebelliously scoffed.

"Might I inquire as to Kára's whereabouts this evening?" It made no sense to avoid looking a bit desperate. Last night she had been quite excited at the prospect of attending and Loki's own mother had insisted that she be there.

Ástrid opened her mouth to retort, but Bergdis quickly put a hand on her arm and replied. "Lady Kára is not feeling well, your grace. We have come in her stead."

Loki looked from one to the other. Their body language was quite interesting. Bergdis seemed calm and nonchalant, but her hands kept wringing nervously in front of her. The other one, however, seemed to be murdering him in her mind, the way her fierce eyes stared him down.

"Is she well? Is there anything we can do for her?

"Oh no, your grace. She just needs rest."

The auburn haired one scoffed again, folding her arms in front of her.

He raised his eyebrows, calmly setting his gaze on her. "I'm sorry. Have I done something to offend you?"

"As a matter of fact, you have." Ástrid was quick to retort and her voice shook with anger and an almost insane indignation.

"Ástrid, please." Bergdis whispered.

"What?" She inquired. "It's true! You and your precious whore have hurt her and she wants nothing to do with either one of you."

"Ástrid!" Bergdis chastised her, mortified at the way she was talking to him that way. "Please, think nothing of this, Prince Loki. I do apologize."

"Don't apologize." Ástrid's shrill whisper carried out urgently and she continued talking, thought mostly to herself. "That harlot! Who does she think she is? Calling me a servant and insulting her."

Loki hesitated, certain that he had lost the thread of the conversation. "I assure you I have done nothing to offend Kára."

The younger handmaiden raised an insolent eyebrow at him. "Indirectly, you have. You might have warned her about the company you keep and how hideous they could be. Look at her." She nodded ahead of her, talking to herself now. "Prancing around with such superiority. I swear, if I ever lay my hands on her…"

Loki felt unperturbed by her outburst. He did not quite feel offended but entirely confused. He turned in the direction of where she was looking at and saw her. She was noticeable even from the distance. Her red hair was ardently evident as she paced around with her friends. Freyja caught his gaze and smiled coyly, seductively pushing her hair aside as she turned back.

"That filth! It's disgusting." Ástrid, who had noticed the exchange between Loki and Freyja, fixed him with a repulsed stare.

"I am not aware of what has happened." Loki started calmly, addressing Bergdis for help. "But I would like to know." His voice was patient but commanding, leaving no room for debate.

"Your grace, I am not sure if Lady Kára would want us to…" She hesitated, shaking her head.

Loki pursed his lips. "Kára is my friend. If anything I or my past associations have said or done to offend her, I would like the opportunity to set it right." He could've been lying, but he spoke smoothly, with no trace of deceit underneath. His words powerful whenever he spoke.

Bergdis stern gaze fell upon Ástrid, who merely huffed indignantly, muttering threats under her breath. She turned back to Loki and surveyed him. He looked concerned. She felt no guilt in telling him, because she was perceptive and she knew that he cared for her, even if he outwardly denied it. "Very well, your grace. Earlier this afternoon…"

She proceeded to tell him everything. As the retelling progressed, Loki's frown became more pronounced, being replaced with incredulity. He questioned them of her true whereabouts. They did not tell him, but he had a feeling he already knew where she was. Thanking them and apologizing for any offense indirectly delivered, he stalked about the hall, a calm fierceness in his walk.

He knew Kára was so much different than Freyja, but up until this point he had no idea just how entirely opposites they were. He knew long before that the red head loved to talk about him with her friends. It gave her power and station in a way. She used him as much as he used her. It had not bothered him, really. Kára, however, had been deeply offended on his behalf.

He suddenly felt rushing warmth spreading through his neck as he imagined her defending him. And in his thoughts, she had just given him what he thought was most precious, most ambitious. She had firmly stated, in a way, that he was worth it all. He was worth respect and honor and she had fiercely safeguarded that. He was once again corroborating that she cared for him or at least held him in high regard, which no one else had done. She was paid, though, with a harsh slap in her spirit from the very person he had once adored.

Kára was a treasure itself, a dying gem of high morale and modesty. And she had been subjected to suffer the scorn of the most rapacious of women. Freyja had blinded him and a quick flash of anger burst forth, thinking of how he had been deceived by her false smiles and cunning seductions. She had been aware of what he had needed, using it fully to her advantage. Not anymore, though. In his deluded train of thought, he took her actions as limiting. She had been restraining his powers just for her, so she could use them.

Loki needed and wanted something else entirely. Something Kára had given him that he was not quite ready to part with. He felt a gnawing guilt in his heart. He was not using her per se, but it still felt odd to think of her in such way.

He searched for Freyja incessantly. He knew she was here somewhere.

He found her eventually. She suddenly appeared before him, beckoning him to her with a movement of her finger. He smiled candidly and she thought he was pleased. He allowed her to lead him away from the chattering of the crowds, making play of the prey she was and how she was luring the predator to catch her. She loved this game. She walked outside to the private gardens, once or twice glancing back to make sure he was following her. He was, of course. She smirked. He could never deny her.

Purposefully, she reached the end of the solitary gardens, where the ample space ended in a balcony of sorts, hidden from view as a merry fountain poured water into the small creek than ran through it.

"I knew you'd be following me." She smiled at him, bashfully hiding her eyes from behind long lashes. "It's been so long, my love."

She was startled, however, when she did not see him smile back. Instead, his eyes seemed cold and dispassionate. "I have heard you have been talking about me…in a most disrespectful manner."

Freyja was not unintelligent; she knew how to play. "I do not know what you are talking about, Loki. You know I only have the highest regards for you."

"Do you?" He mused. "No, I do not believe you do. I have long known you parade yourself like a queen to your advantage, but you forget you are not the only one who shares my bed."

She looked shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered. "It doesn't matter who shares your bed on a whim. I am the only one you favor and everyone knows that. You always come back to me in the end, because I am the only who can give you what you want, what you need."

He hated how self-assured she was. He hated how true her words were…or had been. She made him seem like a petulant boy, like a mindless savage whose sole purpose was to please her.

_Not anymore._

In a quick move he was right before her, grasping her arm roughly. His voice was rough and unforgiving. "What did you say to her?"

Freyja's eyes widened. So it was she he was talking about. That insipid girl, so unattractive, so unlike her. She was horrified to find him slipping from her fingers once more as the startling suspicion chewed her insides. "It's true, then." She whispered in an accusatory tone. "She has become your new pet. How could you? She's so plain, Loki. By Odin, you only need to look at her. How hideous!"

He shook her arm, pushing her forcefully towards the balcony's rail. "Don't you dare speak about her like that." His voice was steady and calm, which seemed more dangerous than his usual self.

"You're jesting, surely!" She looked incredulous. "Oh, Loki. You could do so much better than her. I only wished to punish you for your crude comments, but come now. I am always willing to take you back." Her mock sympathetic words did not achieve the effect she expected.

He could plainly see her now. Oh, how blinded he had been. "Don't flatter yourself. My association with Kára has nothing to do with you. In fact, nothing in my life is about you anymore."

She flushed in seething anger, pulling her arm from his grasp. "What does she do for you? I saw her in the bathhouses today, you know." She put a finger to her mouth, apparently deep in concentration. "I must say, she has quite an usual body. You can't possibly be attracted to her. There must be something else, then." She changed tactics, placing a hand on his chest and looking up at him through her lashed. She whispered across as if with a lover, pouting slightly. "Tell me, is she better in bed than me?"

He detached himself from her, throwing her a disgusted look. He straightened up and took a steadying breath. "To compare her with you would be a sin." He started. "And I wouldn't do her the dishonor. She's beyond you, Freyja, in every possible way."

"You can't leave me. I am everything you want. Go on, then, my love. I can wait for you to quench those delirious desires. I'll be waiting for you."

He fixed her a cold look. "My patience for you is waning, Freyja." He took a step closed and in his armor her was most intimidating. "So, I want you to listen very carefully. Kára is not my lover, she is my friend and if I hear you've been spreading rumors about her I will hurt you and love every second of it." He was talking mostly out of anger at being cheated, deluded by her games, tired of being her second best. "You will stay away form her and her attendants. As for me, you are not to go anywhere near my quarters, speak to me or even look at me. Our association had ended. You can go and spread your legs in someone else's face." He spoke with such coldness it was unsettling.

She watched him go, having been dismissed like something old. She knew he would not hurt her but she had to thread lightly. This was someone she did not know. But Freyja did not give up easily. She just had to wait and see, be patient, assess her options once more. She would bow down because she had neither the resources nor the strategy to get him back. Let him try other things. She would still be there when the pet's enchantments wear off.

For now, she needed to find everything there ever was said or known about Kára.

She would have him back.

* * *

He had ridden into the valley fairly quickly. It was easier with a lot less people out on the streets. His chestnut horse was being pushed to the limit, but he could hardly bring himself to care right now. He had a feeling she was going to be there.

And he had to go…now, not later. He had to apologize. He would hate it if she had changed any high opinion of him because of her. He wanted to stay in that high pedestal she had seemed to place him on.

He dismounted a considerable distance away from their practice site and walked warily down to it. He could feel some urgency in his heart but his body was calm.

He found her sitting on the boulder, looking out into the grounds. Her back was to him, the long, dark brown hair being pushed and pulled by the wind. She was not aware of him, because her eyes were closed and she looked vulnerable. She was taking deep breaths as if having some secret conversations with the wind. Her hand was tightly wound around the hilt of one of the daggers he had given her, this being the only apparent telling of any discomfort. She, however, looked calm and peaceful. She almost seemed to be in a deep slumber, if it were not for the fact that she spoke to him.

"You are supposed to be at the festival."

Loki approached her slowly, a bit startled at having been discovered. "I had matters to attend to."

Her eyes were still closed, but she let out a small sigh. "I will not apologize." She spoke softly, almost not wanting him to hear her. She knew why he was here and wondered if he would be mad at her.

He stood before her stoically, a small smile on his face. She thought he'd be mad at her. How could he, when she had gone and stood her ground for him. "I was not asking you to."

She opened her eyes, fixing her stare on him. He was magnificent and very out of place there. She had never seen his golden armor, but somehow it made him look taller, more intimidating. He was physical formality as he stood there, his hands at his side, the golden plates reflecting the moon's light. She could've been staring and she would not have cared. He was such a sight. Kára understood why her own mind deceived her, almost flaunting his obvious greatness to her appeal.

Her heart was hammering inside her chest making her uncomfortable aware of the heat rising in her cheeks or the accelerated pulse in her wrists. She kept her dark eyes fixed on him, unconsciously admitting that Freyja had been right. Loki, in all his greatness and appeal, wanted someone just as attractive as him. He deserved that. This was not a realization of self-pity, this was a confirmation of something she already knew and had forgotten in the dark hours of the night, when he was visiting her in her dreams.

He felt exposed to her. It felt as if she had discovered a filthy secret of his and was judging him. He stood his ground, straightening up. But Kára was not judging him. She was simply assessing his character.

He did not seem upset, but she still felt wary. "I thought you would be angry with me."

He shook his head, smiling inwardly. "It's not every day that I happen to have someone defend my honor."

She frowned and turned away, clearly upset. He was mocking her. She supposed she should've expected that. It hurt, though, for a moment. "I am aware I should not have intervened." She said, her voice tense. "But there is no need to ridicule me."

"You misunderstand me, Kára." He spoke quickly, appalled that she had misinterpreted. "I simply wanted to thank you. I do not believe anyone has ever done that before."

She shrugged slightly, too tired to argue or ask anything. "Thor does it constantly."

"Does he?" he raised his eyebrows. "I hadn't noticed."

She nodded and walked towards him. He though she would stop next to him but she kept going about, bending slightly to pick the daggers left in the ground. "He does."

Kára felt tired, so tired. She did not want to talk. He was constantly exhausting her, just by being in her thoughts and now this, so many conflicting emotions. She almost wanted to forget about him. It was getting worse, trying to avoid thinking about him. Bergdis and Astrid did not help, either, by pointing out that she lit up whenever he was around. She needed to stop this.

Loki set his jaw. She was ignoring him and for a fleeting moment he felt horrified by the possibilities of what Freyja had said to her. "Kára, did she upset you?"

She stopped on her way back to give him a small smile. "I will be fine."

He sighed, frustrated to be getting these short answers. "Why did you do it?" He wondered out loud and in the solitude they were in, it seemed like such an intimate question.

Kára contemplated this for a moment while keeping busy, placing the daggers back on their case. "Do you remember asking me if it hurt when someone else was hurting mentally?"

He remembered clearly. It was the day he had insulted her. He did not want to admit he remembered, but there was not point now in avoiding that, especially since he had apologized. "I remember. We were in this very same location."

"Indeed." She sighed. "When she spoke of you, it felt like she was hurting you. Not physically or in any way anyone could perceive, but I just could not accept her talking about someone I…" she blushed, ashamed of how it sounded. "Value this much in that manner. You deserve much better."

"How do you know that?" She had just said the very same words Freyja had done moments ago, but coming from Kára's honest, innocent self made them all the more real, made them true. He deserved better.

She was surprised at him for asking such a question. Did he not think he was worthy? In her mind it was obvious that he was. He was gentle to her and kind, somehow like a vulnerable child and she understood that very well. "You are my friend." She stated, as if that answer was clearly enough.

"You care for me." Loki was closer to her, almost colliding his chest to her back. He felt the sudden urge to hold a strand of her hair, so rebelliously loose in the wind's trail.

She turned her head back to her leather case, the thumping in her heart faster and louder. She closed her eyes, praying it would stop, because nothing had happened yet and she was already hurting. She needed to stop this. Her fears were too great. He was cold and warm at the same time, so close to her. "I care for all my friends."

He smiled, satisfied for now. While everything seemed to be well between them, the chewing conscience he had urged him forward. "I apologize on her behalf."

She frowned. "Don't do that. Do not apologize for her."

"I am not doing it for her." He said, forcefully as if trying very hard to make his point. "I am doing it for myself." He ran a hand through his hair. "I realize many of the things she said…"

"Loki…" She interrupted him, "Don't." She shook her head. "I do not need to know whatever relationship you have with her."

"There is none." He spoke determinedly; concerned she might think less of him. "In the past…"

She quickly went over and placed a hand on his lips. It was small and warm, like everything her. "I said don't. I really do not need to know." She smiled at him kindly, as if she was sparing him and herself of whatever discomfort discussing her might have brought. When she was satisfied he would not speak, he let her hand fall down.

"Your handmaiden told me she caller her a glorified harlot." Loki was bemused now, because it seemed like a jest that everyone had seen what he had not been able to.

Kára gaze was stern. "That's a very vulgar manner in which to address a woman, no matter who it is." She had been thankful for Ástrid's outburst but now she was concerned for her friend, fearing any retaliation.

"But you know that she is." He said.

"I did not insult her, though. Not obviously, at least."

"Why didn't you?" He wondered, knowing deep inside that the answer was so clear.

Kára looked up at the sky and felt her own strength returning. Loki was asking her why not…and she recalled the words of her mother and her sisters, all of them always so encouraging, so supportive. She spoke softly but with a strong resolve in her voice. "Because I'm better than that"

Loki smiled softly, half in wonder, half proud. "Yes." He whispered. "Yes, you are."

Everything changed for him, then. He just did not know it yet.

* * *

She rode back with him all the way to the palace grounds, where she asked him to stop.

"The Hall is still quite a distance away." He said, confused as to why she had stopped him.

Now firmly on the ground, she patted the horse's neck and gazed up at him. "I am not going to the festival."

Loki could have groaned in frustration. "Kára, everything will be alright. She will not approach you in any way."

"I am not worried about that." She said, shaking her head. "I have volunteered to care for the children tonight."

Loki grinned in spite of himself. Of course, she would have done that. "My mother will be most displeased."

Kára bit her lip, deep in thought. She did not want to offend his mother, but she had already offered to cover that post this evening. "Would you be willing to apologize for me?"

"Yes, Kára." He slid down from his horse, having handed the reins to a passing attendant. "Let me walk you to the gardens."

They walked silently, towards one of the gardens designed to keep the guests' children. Attendants cared for them, but tonight they had allowed her to stay as well. Having no desire to attend the festival, she had offered her help, being the perfect excuse not to show up.

"Kára!" A small boy was running to meet her.

She opened her arms as she kneeled down for him to reach her, indulging him in smiles. "My, Hákon! Have you been growing taller?" She pouted and the small boy puffed out his chest proudly.

"Yes! One day I will be as tall as…" he looked around, looking for something to compare. He found a tree, but after contemplating it he dismissed and his bright blue eyes rested on Loki. "Him!"

Kára looked back at Loki, who was standing firm and proper behind her, watching the scene with a smirking face. "Prince Loki? You want to be as tall as prince Loki?"

The prince in question raised his eyebrows at her. The little boy grinned at him. "Yes." He turned to Kára and spoke only to her, but his voice carried out. "He is very tall. Is he a giant?"

Kára laughed. "No, silly boy. He is a grown up. You remember him, don't you? He came to visit when you were ill."

He seemed to remember because he fixed Loki with a glare, quite powerful for such a small boy. "You did not let her finish the story." He pointed his chubby little finger at him, waving it up and down, chastising him.

Kára hid a grin behind her hadn. Loki placed a hand to his chest, feeling as if he could not quite deny the little boy anything. He was too vulnerable, too innocent. He was just a child and it was simple as that. "I do apologize, my dear fellow. I promise I will make Kára finish her story."

Hákon seemed very pleased with this arrangement as he nodded excitedly. Then, just as quickly as he had come to them, another young boy ran past him and he went right behind him, completely forgetting them both.

Loki stood stoically, taking everything about this scene in. He had never seen so many children, or perhaps he had never noticed. It reminded him of his childhood and how many time he stood in this very same garden with Thor constantly complaining that he wanted to see the festival. For his brother, they had both gone at great lengths to fool their caretakers and escape into the Hall. Odin had been upset, but they had enjoyed it thoroughly.

The children went about, their carefree smiles bouncing off each other like mirroring images of happiness and joy. Along with them was Kára, who seemed so very like them even in spite of her age.

He suddenly noticed that a small, fair-haired girl was staring at him. She was standing before him, a thoughtful look in her eyes. She cocked her head to the side and for a moment Loki felt scrutinized. A moment later, the girl had run to Kára, tugging at the skirt of her dress insistently.

She bent down to level with the girl and listened to her words, coming out of her mouth quite rapidly.

"Oh, I see." Kára whispered back, though it was louder this time. "Would you like me to tell him?"

The girl nodded, smiling shyly at her.

"She says you have very beautiful eyes." Kára stated, bemused by the startled expression on his face.

He recovered quickly and bent down. "Is that so? Well, I rather like your hair. Would you like to see some magic?"

The child nodded, walking up to him having completely forgotten her shyness.

"Look over there." He pointed at the group of children who were running around, jumping and dancing. Loki waved his hand in one smooth, fluid motion.

Small clouds appeared to be forming, condensing into seemingly soft, puffy shapes of different sizes. As soon as one child noticed them, the others did and chaos commenced. Kára thought they would disappear, or at least deform once the children started kicking them or trying to grasp them in their hands. The clouds, however, were not gassy at all. They were creamy and delicate, apparently cushioned, firma and solid. Their colors were soft. Some were blue, others yellow, a few orange, and most were white. Children bounced off them excitedly, a few daring to jump on them to find they bounced up into the air slightly heighted than the ground.

Kára joined their games. She rolled around like one of them, a pure heart so out on her face he could not help but think of Freyja and once again distinguish how different from each other they were. She was all warmth and caring, like a bright star of hope shining down on his dreams. She was a spirit herself, like bare soul exposed to vulnerability and he could not imagine why anyone would harm her. Here, now, he understood just why he wanted her admiration. It was honest, like a child's. It was free and unrestrained and just as he had one and done something for the little girl, he was doing with Kára. It's almost as if she needed protection from all evil in the world, because she herself was vulnerable. She was not weak, but something about her commanded protection and he had rushed like a fool to her.

"You did this?" She was at his side once more, out of breath. Her eyes were pointing out the clouds, deeply enchanted by them.

He smiled because he did not know what else to do. "I thought you might like them." He said, justifying his actions as a way to apologize to her, as he had not done it yet.

"They are marvelous." She whispered. "Fantastic, really…"

He was about to say something, when someone called out a greeting for him. He turned around, finding a noble couple nodding their heads in his direction. They had curious looks about them, wondering why he was there and not on the festival as he should and in the company of an attendant, no less. It seemed not many people knew her.

Kára was no fool. He knew many people wondered why he took the time to spend with her. She often wondered that herself. In fact, her mind constantly pored over that idea. And she kept forgetting that Asgard's court was a bit enchanted by titles. If she were to parade around with her title, it would all have been different. But she was not like that. She preferred the simple life.

He nodded back, but he was tense now.

"You had better go back." Kára told him. "I expect you will be missed." She said, not unkindly. Her eyes were shining at him, he was almost certain of it. Her smile was wide and pure, reflecting a deep understanding of his life he was now not so comfortable in he knowing.

He knew their private moment was lost and he had to leave with only a small amount of her praise. "Promise you will be at the next festival."

She chuckled. "I might no even be here still." It was true. Who knew how long she would be able to stay in Asgard. It all depended on her parents.

"Promise." He commanded, green eyes so dark among the vegetation outside.

Kára nodded, now certain her heart had taken her along the path she did not want to walk on. She avoided his gaze, not wanting to give him any indication to her thoughts. "I promise." She softly replied.

He took her hand so unexpectedly she had not time to react. Bending slightly, he placed his thin lips on the back of her hand. The shiver travelled all the way to her neck and she stood there stupidly, trying not let him see.

"I shall see you at practice, then." He smiled one of those rare smiles of him and left.

Kára turned back to the children who beckoned her to go play with them. She could not explain it reasonably, but there was something about those clouds. Whenever she touched one, she could almost feel the ghost of his lips on the back of her hand, sending a trail of shivers down her body and a wave of fear in her mind.

* * *

**Phew, the longest chapter yet! Thank you so much. You've all been wonderful.**

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**I am humbled and deeply honored by your many kind words. You're all amazing, fantastic readers. **

**-Lily**

**Note: If you guys are waiting for the thank yous on my live journal. I will be posting them later, because I have to head out into the hospital real quick. Rest assured that they WILL be posted. I just really wanted you guys to have the new chapter first.**


	14. Subtlety

**Well, hello hello everybody!**

**Oh, I knoooow you all must hate me. I can't say I blame you. It's been a little over three weeks since I last updated. *sigh* Trust me, it has been torture for me as well feeling the incredible desire to write and having to concentrate on real life as it got so busy.**

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**This is a chapter I have been longing to write…It is filled with many plot holes that will be filled later on, and I am please to say that I have a surprise for you guys next chapter! Wanna know what it is? Read on until the bottom for the final author's note.**

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* * *

**Chapter 14 – Subtlety**

* * *

The seasons passed.

Swiftly and steadily they passed like water down its path, unrelenting and inevitable.

Kára's time in Asgard had gone by so quickly, it was hard to think she had been so wary to call Asgard home before this. Her heartache had subsided as she had received letters from her family often, telling her to be courageous and that they were proud of her. In time her routine transformed into enjoyment and appreciation for her new life and the wonderful feeling of independence that came with it.

She grew in mind and spirit, molding into a fiercer being, more individualistic, more capable. She smiled more…laughed more. Her social relationships grew in friendship and trust, especially Loki's with whom she spent a considerable amount of time, practicing and learning from.

Her body grew stronger, though never losing her curved appearance or the soft roundness about her, as Asgard delicacies had been underrated in her opinion. Nevertheless, she could go on farther everyday, train longer, fight and move swifter, endure more demanding situations. She still had much to learn, but was pleased to have seen some progress, even if she still felt she looked a bit clumsy.

Once she had accurately stabbed targets for several weeks, he had introduced her to actual fighting. She had been slow at first, awkward and clumsy, dropping the new daggers Loki had given her. They were longer and curved. The grip itself was not fancy as the others had been. These were made for battle, to fight someone in close combat, practical and unemotional.

Loki never joined her in battle. It was Sif whom he turned to when he wished to test her and she had been more than glad to help.

Today had been such an occasion.

Kára wiped the sweat of her brow with trembling hands. The stillness after the strenuous exercise made them shake, as the thrill of combat had not left her body.

"You did well." Sif came to her side, congratulating her through quick breaths.

Kára chuckled. "Hopefully one day I will be half as good as you are."

Sif laughed, a warm understanding in her eyes. "That day will come sooner than you expect. You have already come a long way. I could hardly block that last swing of yours."

The younger woman smiled widely, deeply grateful for the encouragement. "I highly doubt that but thank you."

"It's true!" Sif adamantly replied. "Thor, isn't it true?"

The blonde asgardian prince who had been evidently teasing his younger brother by the smirk on his face, turned towards them, forcing Loki to join them as well. "It is true indeed, but I am no expert in that." He winked at Kára while he delivered a small elbow blow to his brother's side. "Loki should judge better than we can."

"Well done, Kára." Loki spoke with a placid smile. "You improve every day."

Kára, who had been awaiting his judgment bravely, smiled brightly. "Thank you." Her soft reply was predictable, as she always turned a bit shy whenever he praised her. They felt like clouded words spoken only to her ears, and she wanted to keep and savor them privately. She kept them all, because this was as much as she would allow herself to take from their friendship and dare dream of them being spoken differently…very differently. His praise meant more to her than he could fathom.

He squeezed Kára's small shoulders in a half hug, their increased familiarity evident. "You should be proud." He said conversationally. "It's not everyday we see Sif at least a bit exhausted and she is one, if not the greatest, of all the warriors in this realm."

Sif raised an incredulous eyebrow, subtly directed at Thor, who merely gave her a wide toothed grin. This had happened often: Loki praising them, admiring them, being civil and amiable. She had noticed it before the others. It had been unsettling, not so different from the Loki he used to be, but still disconcerting.

He joined their games more, expeditions and outings. And she had not been able to discern any deceit in his manner or behavior. He was happier, it showed.

Thor had shrugged off her concerns. "He's happy. Let him be."

"But it's disturbing!" She had almost screamed in frustration. "Never before has he taken any interest in us or our friendship, much less join us. I can feel it, he's deceiving us." She hadn't actually felt anything, but it had been important to show his brother just how different Loki was behaving.

"Why must you always think the worst of him?" Thor asked and in his voice she could hear him hurting.

Sif was taken aback, realizing her mistake too late. He was, after all, his brother. Never before had she thought of Loki as Thor's brother. Yes, they were siblings and princes together since birth, but they had been so different from each other it was hard to see them that way. It had never bothered her. Now she felt ashamed that she had never done so. It was too obvious. Thor loved him deeply. Now, she noticed just how much. "Forgive me. I…"

Thor had turned to face her, his big blue eyes wide in supplication. "He's my brother and it fills me with joy to see him getting closer to us, as it was always meant to be."

"I understand." She had said and truly meant it. "But why now? It just feels odd."

Thor had smiled then and he leaned in closer, almost like he had done with his brother whenever they conspired to plan a spot of mischief. "I believe it is Kára's doing."

"Kára?" She had frowned. Yes, like everybody in Asgard, she had noticed her and the younger prince had grown closer, but it was to be expected if he was training her. "I still don't understand…"

"He likes her." He had said with a voice of finality. "I do not dare presume what she means to him exactly, but he likes her and she has been a good friend to him. He deserves a good friend."

Sif understood all that and of course she had taken notice, but she could not understand why it could be enough to explain it. Still, she would not assume to understand Loki's mind or heart if it was indeed involved and that's precisely where the entire trail went missing. Perhaps Thor was right. As his friend, she should be happy for him, because even Thor looked happier. Granted, he spent more time with Loki now, but she could never resent him for it, for he had yearned to be closer to him, like they had been in childhood.

If Kára was indeed the reason for his change, then they had other worries. It was well known Kára's stay was temporary, even if they did not know the exact amount of time she would have. It could be a few more months or even years. "Well, that could be the reason, yes. But if it is, what do you think will happen…when she leaves?"

Thor had not been able to answer and she had stopped questioning him.

* * *

Kára watched him often.

It had increased over time. Once or twice she had been caught by her handmaidens and more times by his brother, who merely smiled kindly at her, almost as if she was doing him a favor.

But watching him was entirely for her own delight and she had grown to take care of how subtle she needed to be. She did not dare risk getting caught once more, as she was not ready to explain why she watched him that way.

She just loved to do so.

Loki was magnificent and true, like some reality that was beyond her reach yet tangible enough to consider absoluteness.

She watched him as he battled Thor now, his fierce movements so unlike his brother's. He was swift and versatile in every way he moved. With long strides he caught easily on his brother whose heavy Mjölnir looked mighty and powerful. Loki was a different sort of powerful. He swept in, seeping like the star's mantle over the night sky or the progressive darkness it brought. She wasn't sure which one to describe him with, because he could be both wonderful and dangerous.

It had started slowly. She noticed his rough behavior first. They way he moved, the way he talked. The strut on his walk and the arrogance when he sat came next.

Suddenly, she found herself scrutinizing him whenever he wasn't looking.

She pretended to arrange her leather case or the books she carried and she would look up through her lashes or out of the corner of her eye, taking in another bit of detail, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat.

His hair was the darkest shade of black, contrasting his white skin so sharply it was actually complimenting. She wondered if his eyebrows were as soft as they looked. It was easy to notice them because they framed every expression he made so adequately. They themselves expressed what his eyes could not.

The eyes were an entire different story. Kára still tried not to stare too much when he spoke to her, not directly into his eyes at least. Emerald green one day, slightly bluer the next they varied according to his position towards the sky, where the sun's shine would illuminate them or hide from them. Mostly they were green, startling vibrant whenever the light was sweeping around and not directly at them, when they would most likely look like they had fire inside, small specks of a dashing gold lining his pupils.

She knew he would not take in kindly her descriptions, but he was exquisite. His face was strong and sharp, well defined cheekbones and a stubborn jaw made of long lines that gave way to thin lips, relaxed when he was smiling and pursed whenever he was upset about something.

Kára had learned most of these details watching him talk. His deep voice was harsh sometimes, but still silky. And every now and then, when he was talking animatedly, the right corner of his mouth would twitch downwards slightly. It was endearing and she had learned to love and anticipate these small details, feeling that those were what made him…well, Loki.

Too late she realized how her appreciation had taken a very inappropriate quality. During their months together, she had done precisely what she had been guarding herself against.

Kára had silently, irrevocably grown to care inmensely for the Asgardian prince.

The recognition of such feelings had been alarming, terrifying even. She had pondered over the thought for weeks now. He took over her mind day and night so her first natural thought was infatuation.

It would not have been surprising. Kára had little experience when it came to these matters, but she had had her interest in a few young men back home. It had never trespassed the silent, distant admiration. She had never been close to any of them. She had never actually talked to any of them.

Loki, however, with his easy conversation and his intention to remain a close friendship had taken over. For someone like her, with little acquaintance with the male population and so many insecurities, the dreams had come easily, but the discovery of her true feelings had been disturbing.

Not only did she find herself to be attracted to such a man, but also every personality trait he offered. He was silent most of the time, but passionate and stubborn. His intelligence was something more to admire, bordering on pure genius. He defended his ideals with claws and sharp wit, his eyes turning stormy whenever he found someone challenging them.

And yet, through all the strength he possessed, every steadiness of mind, every ounce of courage, he was vulnerable. At times his eyes went wide and raw emotion would flash across them, whenever he was hurt or afraid. And he would react according to it, a dark mood shadowing his eyesight, cloudy eyes hidden by furrowed brows. His lips would thin and he would remain silent, until someone, anyone would turn to him and praise him, pat him. He was like a child, but with many demons and dreams.

He was restless and wild underneath all the control he mustered…and he wasn't exactly trying to hide it. His cleverness was astounding, his mind of a very strategic nature, two very different sides inside his very complex and wonderful being.

And when he smiled…it broke her. He had such a way of smiling, so unashamed and yet shy. He seemed silly sometimes, almost like a naughty boy and he would catch himself just in time to turn back into his brooding, responsible self. But not before grinning with eyebrows raised, as he always found something amusing, something only he found deliriously funny.

She had mourned her heart, subjected to the pain of caring deeply for someone who would not… She sighed. Poor, unfortunate soul whose past traumatic experiences had left her desolate and unwilling to recognize that she was worth it all, that she deserved and was capable of being loved, that she was beautiful enough to be desired.

She did not see that, though. And that may have been her greatest failing.

So she did what she knew best. She had settled. Content with as much or as little life gave her, she had settled into a placid lightheartedness.

_I will go on as I have done._

So she smiled at him, concealing the utmost desires of her heart, the painful jolt of her soul as he pierced her with those eyes. She laughed easily with him, having to erase the ghost of that laugh whenever she was left alone in the darkness of the night, with her thoughts and the firm resolution to go back and act as if he had not affected her, as if he was just a dear friend…as if she did not fly whenever he praised her.

"He is good, isn't he?"

Kára seemed startled to find herself in the valley, now watching Thor and Loki fight each other, though they laughed more than fight.

She turned to Sif who was watching them with the ghost of a smile on her lips. "They both are." She responded, not sure of whom Sif was referring to.

Furtively, she watched Sif as she looked on towards the training grounds Loki had built. She was watching them with such fascination, a rapt attentive look on her eyes.

"I have loved him for a very long time." She spoke softly and Kára's mouth dropped slightly.

Perhaps the fact that it was no secret or that she had once looked at Thor the same way Kára was looking at Loki now prompted her to such a confession. She did not regret it though. Kára had acted as she was hopeful she would have.

Kára stood silent by her side, looking between Sif and Thor, unsure of what to say or if anything should be said at all.

"Does he know of your sentiments?" She asked quietly, afraid it was the wrong thing to say.

Sif shook her head and a small smile of amusement broke in her face. "I do not believe he does. That's quite shocking, considering perhaps all of Asgard knows."

Kára bit her lip, knowing her next question would be more of advice for herself than anything. "Do you think about letting him know? Would you do it?"

"Not at all." She chuckled and the younger woman was amazed at how brave and strong she was, a true warrior and a true woman. "Such things are not meant to be."

"Why not?" Her question was daring, considering it gave way to her own heartache.

Sif sighed. "He is meant to be king someday. Someone suitable to be his queen will be found. Even if he chose to look for his own bride, he's much too preoccupied with being king right now than finding someone. He knows it will be easy. He's no stranger to love." She did not sound hurt, but merely factual. "And he still has some growing up to do." She gave her a small grin, a small token of a seal trust between them, telling her that it was alrght, that she was not hurt and that she accepted her life as it was.

Kára looked down, almost as if apologizing for not having realized it sooner. "You two are such great friends. I did not know…"

"Oh, it's quite alright." Leaning down towards her, she whispered next. "I know you have your own feelings to take care of."

Kára looked on, shocked at how easily she had been discovered. She opened her mouth to contradict her, but she was already on her way to challenge Thor only turning back to grant her a warm smile and a wink.

* * *

"You are quiet today."

"Hmm?" Kára turned to his voice to find Loki staring at her with a curious expression.

"I was merely remarking that you seem more quiet than usual." He repeated.

"Oh." She chuckled, embarrassed. "I do not know what it wrong with me today."

He touched her elbow, stopping her from packing the last set of daggers she had to put away. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all." She replied and resumed her task. "I am just having difficulty concentrating today."

Loki assessed her with a critical eye. She was lying to him. It was amusing and almost endearing. He was a master of lies and here she was thinking she could trick him. Perhaps she had forgotten whom she was talking to…or perhaps these negative details about him were not as important so as to be remembered. He preferred the later one. "I doubt it. Your concentration was perfectly adequate this morning. Even Sif looked a bit shocked to see how much you have improved."

She blushed. "Perhaps I am merely tired."

Her responses were short but still she smiled, a small, apologetic smile.

She had come a long way. It had been fascinating to see her every change, every fluctuation in personality and it pleased him to think that it had been his doing. His vanity was fed in the thought that he had provoked it, that she was a product of his skill and wisdom.

How arrogant…

_Perhaps._

It suited him just fine. They served each other well. She learned from him while he fed from her. Their comfortable relationship grew into friendship and it delighted him to think she adored him so.

Even he had someone he could trust. It had been difficult at first, but she had won him over. Her sweet disposition was openness to him so he went right in without even realizing he had done it.

Not that he cared as of now. It was beneficial for both of them. He could protect her, provide her with the comfort of a friend now that she was so far away from home and he…well, he took advantage. He may have used her initially. His mother and father were pleased with him, seeing he was forming an attachment to her. That had meant constant praise.

She was a light shining down on the frailty of his dreams and hopes, strengthening them, encouraging him. She could read him easily. It had been annoying…to walk around with part of his being so bared and nude to her, but she had not abused it. Instead, she had soothed it, covered it and healed it with gentle words and soft, compassionate looks.

Even now, he felt a soft vibration in his chest as a memory of her dark eyes touched him. He had been enraged, thinking it had been pity. He was wrong. It had been empathy and understanding…along with faith.

It undid him.

But he was now diverting from the train of thought into feelings he wished not to understand.

She had gotten better…that was the point.

Everyday she went a bit further on, pushing herself. When he had first analyzed her, he had been wrong. She was not stubborn…she was downright obtuse. She didn't relinquish control easily, not in battle and not in his limitations of what she could and could not do. That was a subject of his endless taunting of her. It drove her even further on and he had watched, half worried, half amused as her eyes had turned darker and she had snatched the dagger from his hand, almost harming him, and proceeded to prove him wrong.

She had proved him wrong…but had suffered for it.

Her muscles constantly protested, but she kept silent and he could only watch as her stubbornness gave her pain. He had, after all, tried to teach her that lesson a long time ago.

Today he did not wish to harm her. She seemed depressed today, quiet and pale. It did not suit her. So instead of giving in to her unyielding pride, he stepped in.

"Well, then." He stopped her from what she was doing. He saw her sigh in relief and he tried hard not to smirk. "I shall simplify things for us and we can get you back to your chambers more quickly."

"I told you I am alright." She protested. "There is no reason why I should not take care of my own things. I shall put everything away and then we can leave."

He clicked his tongue impatiently. "You may have all the time in the world, Kára, but I am exhausted and I will not let you stay here on your own. It is unchivalrous."

She eyed him slowly, narrowing her eyes slightly and cocking her head to the side. He may have just been saying that to trick her. It would not have been the first time. Biting her lip, she looked closer while he put a tired hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. He did seem tired…

"Oh, alright, then." She gave up, cheering herself silently for her clever rouse.

As Loki turned from her to take his position in the middle of the battleground, he grinned triumphantly. How charming she was, thinking she could cheat him. She had failed to notice that he had assessed her first and now knew every sign of fatigue and every warning of indomitability.

She stood close to him, inwardly bouncing in anticipation as she always did whenever he did his magic. He did not do much, just waved his hand, but the effect was immediate.

Kára gasped quietly as tongues of blue light darted from his hand. They were glowing bright, with veins of white inside them, pulsating alive, moving on to embrace the surrounding structures, targets and weapons alike. They glowed faintly then more intensely, finally glaring a bright white light to next disappear into nothing.

"Amazing." She breathed out, quite unaware that she had said it aloud.

Loki faced her, a bemused smile on his lips and his eyes alight with pleasure. "I seem to get that response from you often."

Her cheeks turned a rosy hue. "Do not laugh at me." She retorted, thought it was more out of embarrassment than annoyance. "I really do believe it is remarkable."

"Do you, really?" He knew he was treading on risky waters. She could easily shy off or could enrapt him in elegant descriptions of how he was…someone to be admired. He didn't often get the later but when he did, it elated him.

"Of course I do." She gave him a look of disbelief. "Who doesn't? I do not know whether to fear it or admire it, but it is complex combination of both that I feel I can do nothing but marvel at how beautiful it is, how magnificent. If I had magic, I would use it as often as I could."

Loki snorted softly. "You would be frowned upon here in Asgard."

Kára knew this was a sensitive subject. Asgardian warriors and elders alike did not trust magic. They trusted war and the raw emotion in it. War was easy to understand and a great judge of character. She had learned that he was subject to a different kind of judgment, mainly because of his prowess and his lack of interest in the purest forms of battle.

"I do not think I could bring myself to care." She said, shrugging her shoulders as she took one last look at the daggers, confirming they were adequately packed. "Just look at it. Really take it in for what it is. It is unique."

Yes, that was Kára… quite opinionated after her shyness was unpredictably peeled off.

"I sometimes wish…"

Loki's ears turned deaf to anything else. "What? What do you wish for?"

She sighed, and then chuckled, waving him away. "Nothing. It is just the silly dream of a child."

"Kára…" His voice held a warning. She often did this: start to say something then trail off as if realizing how silly she would sound or how nonsensical her request would be. He warned her not to do it, because he disliked having to break pieces of information when only she held the complete picture, but he prodded on and got what he wanted, every single time. "What do you wish for?"

She held silent for a moment then shook her head. "I sometimes wish I could have magic inside me…so I could do some of the things you do...I know it's silly," She quickly said. "But I dream of it sometimes and it feels wonderful."

She spoke softly like this often, whenever she traveled off to distant realms and into her dreams. He tried not to feel sorry for her and he succeeded but only when she would turn brightly at him and dazzle with optimism, unjustified for her position.

Loki considered this for a moment, biting his bottom lip. "I could do it." He said softly and stepped closer. He was at her side, almost having her shoulder press with his chest. She fixed her hair to cover her face, providing her protection from the assault. He wished many things…but it was a delirious feeling to want to reach out and pull that curtain back and discover whether she was smiling or frowning. "I could feel inside you, reach out your…" He wanted to say magic, but something held him back.

"You could?" She turned so abruptly that she almost collided with him, but her wide eyes held no reserve. She looked eager and perhaps a bit doubtful. "How do you do it?"

"I cast aside sight and other influences and reach out with the mind's perceptions." He explained, but she still looked wary, not quite grasping the concept that it could be so easy. "The things itself I cannot feel it, but the small oscillations of energy that I can feel… they echo into the world, like a flowing river, reaching outwards…alive to be manipulated."

"I have never felt that." She said. "From anything or anyone."

Loki nodded, though he had not expected her to understand at all. "We shall see. Stand here and do not move." He took her by the shoulder and turned her to face him fully. He looked deep into her eyes, perhaps looking for the permission to invade her body, even if she did not know he was about to do so. "Now close your eyes." She quirked her mouth. "Trust me. Now then, close your eyes, take a deep breath and stay still."

He felt her before he even closed his eyes to reach out for her. The energy around her was alive and fighting him. She was warm and fiery, feeling every single vein in her body, almost all behaving as if they were independent parts of her and not her own body. He followed the trail, the threads of energy ever so changing that he had to grasp one wave then another and another, until he reached her mind. It was pulsating, like a live, strong heart beating out of its cage.

It sent wave after wave of vibrating shivers, each so carelessly tangled that he could not find an anchor point to hold on to. He grimaced as a powerful wave reached him and he was shocked to find that it had pained him.

So he tried to manipulate it.

It happened so fast he barely had time to react. The rippling of energy recoiled back like snakes about to be attacked, then grasped him, his own energy and pulled him in.

He stifled a groan. She was hurting him. He couldn't breathe and they would not let go. It was like molten fire traveling down his body, like shards of glass being sunk into his skin, like a giant fist crushing his lungs and another one around his throat. Wave after wave of gripping activity took hold of his mind and reeled him in, tangling itself with his. It seeped around and inside him like a disease and memories flashed before him, some painful, some joyful.

He was panicking. He tried to say her name, but no sound came out.

With a last, incredible effort he touched the small amounts of vitality of the ground beneath him, then trees and shrubs alike, animals, anything he could find. Concentrating them even through the pain, he blocked her, pushing her essence back like a shield.

His eyes flew open and he stumbled back, his breath reduced to shallow, quick pants.

And he stared at her for the longest time. She was not aware of what had happened, because she stood with her hands wrought together in the front of her vest and a soft humming had passed her lips. She was patiently waiting for his verdict with closed eyes and trusting, calm demeanor.

Loki could only stare longer, wondering what in the Nine Worlds had just happened. There was a mixture of disturbance and greediness in his eyes, mostly clouded with shock. Just who was this creature? Her small, frail body was hiding something, something terrible and mystifying. Had he been the first to know? Did she even know?

He doubted it, because she did not seem capable of grasping any concept of magic before this. Even if he had explained it, it was a very different kind of magic, far more powerful, far more destructive.

"Loki?" Her timid call startled him and he flinched back like a wounded animal. "Have you felt anything?"

She was hopeful, he concluded. Hopeful and ignorant of her own terrifying gift. And just what was this gift? It chilled him to be bone but he was not afraid…no. He was ravenous.

"No." He lied, but he could not explain why he did it. She needed to know to understand. And she needed to understand to let him explore further, perhaps even with a vulnerable mind, but for now he held that knowledge and knowledge was power. He composed himself, standing straight before her, calming his breaths and racing heart, concealing the wince as he moved. "I am sorry, Kára. I did not feel much other than what little energy everyone has."

She opened her eyes slowly, fixing him a sad look. Wide, innocent eyes calmly staring back in thankfulness, a half somber smile playing on her lips. "I can always dream, can't I?"

But he could have sworn he saw relief drawn across her face as she turned around to start the walk back home.

* * *

Somewhere on the other side of Asgard, a hooded figure waited impatiently in a narrow hallway.

She was out in the gilded halls of one of the noble provinces of the city, luxurious houses stacked neatly alongside one another.

Freyja clicked her tongue, casting her blue eyes around nervously as her foot tapped the marble beneath it.

"Psst." She heard then turned around, a dangerous stance to her body, alarming even for someone in her position. "Psst." She heard the sound again and turned back, looking into the overgrown garden a couple of doors down. Eyes equally as blue as hers were flashing in the distance, a frightened glance in itself. She pushed her body off the wall and walked stealthily towards Eiri, whose almost silver hair peeked out from the cloak she was wearing, making her much more noticeable.

"I waited until my parents had gone to bed." Eiri whispered urgently. "What is that matter? I got your letter."

"I need your help." Freyja wasted no time. She needed to do something and fast. "I know you have been into Rúni's bed lately."

Eiri's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What do you want with him?" She had known Freyja for a long time, practically since they were children. Her selfishness had been a constant friction between them. Whatever Freyja wanted is what she got.

She raised her eyebrows, almost indignant that her friend would spat at her like some covetous wanton. "I do not want him, if that is what you are worried about." She curled her lip, pleased with the wary look on Eiri's face, because no matter how much she cared for her friend, she loved the control she held over her even more. "He is of use to me."

"Why?" Eiri sounded suspicious and certainly desperate to avoid relinquishing her hold on him.

But Freyja was growing annoyed. "He is one of the guards that came from that harlot's realm, isn't he? To serve as her escort?"

Eiri sighed in relief. Everything turned back to Loki for dear Freyja. "Yes."

"And how long have you been sleeping with him?"

She looked hurt as if the figurative slap on her face had been surprising. "Do not be crude, Freyja. I care…"

"I have no desire to hear your pathetic claims of love you have for him. Tell me."

"Weeks, but…"

Freyja smirked, victorious. "Does he trust you?"

Her blonde friend looked desperate. "I do not know. How should I know? Freyja, please…"

The redhead stopped her with a look. "Listen to me, Eiri. You will do this for me. You know I can hurt you. I can easily expose you as the sole murderer of sweet prince Ásvaldr."

"But I didn't!" Eiri's urgent whisper seemed to penetrate the night, true fear in her voice. "It was you! I had nothing to do…"

Freyja's smile was without humor and a bit saner than she would have liked. "Oh, please…having helped me is just as bad and do not test me, dearest Eiri, because I can make it look like it. Nobody knows what I am truly capable of."

"You wouldn't…." She whispered, wide eyes fearful and shocked.

Freyja's smile was lost. "There is nothing I wouldn't do anymore. He will be mine again. So this where you come in, my dear friend. You are to gain Rúni's complete confidence. I do not care what it is that you need to do. It shouldn't be hard," she pondered a thoughtful musing past her lips. "He is already quite smitten with you, I hear."

Eiri tried to waver a smile, as if trying to appease the monster that was now in front of her.

"He comes from her land. If he has come here it is because he has been trusted with her. You will find out everything there is to know about her. Every single detail, Eiri. Nothing is to be left out."

The young blonde looked too afraid to move or contradict her.

"Sweet Eiri." Freyja whispered. "I must say... out of all my friends," She stroked her cheek and the woman in question tried not to flinch away. "I love you the most."

With a swift kiss to her forehead and one last grin, Freyja left, confident that her plan would work, even if she had to wait a little further to get what she wanted.

* * *

**Sweet lord! What is Freyja planning to do?! And just who was prince Ásvaldr?**

**Mwahahaaaa...this story is far from over. Many, many things have yet to we woven in and cleared out.**

**But I did say I have a surprise for you, didn't I?**

**Well, here it goes...I may be exposing Kára's secret in the very next chapter! It all depends on the response I get for it. Ooof! I am impatient. What in the world has happened to her?**

**Wanna know? Then go ahead and REVIEW, please! Reviews make me so so soooo happy! **

**I know, I know...I am shameless review beggar. **


	15. Aflame

**Hey guys!**

**This will be a short author's note. It's 1 am where I live and I have to assist a doctor in a surgery early tomorrow so…phew!**

**First, I apologize once again for the delay! Ugh, I wish I hadn't taken so much time in updating, but here I am. No excuses this time. I simply apologize.**

**Second, and this is VERY important: In my livejournal (address written below) I posted some resources useful for this story. There's a particular song that describes this scene perfectly and I high recommend you listening to it while reading it. It is absolutely beautiful. It's all in my livejournal. I also posted a few pictures that provide an essence to the story. Please, check those out too.**

**Third, please forgive the typos…I am extremely tired and probably did not make a thorough editing. I shall be one it tomorrow, though.**

**Thank you to everyone! Your support has been invaluable to me the last few weeks that have been very extenuating for me in personal /father's health/ and economic matters. But we must stay optimistic! **

**I am uncontrollably excited and very very nervous about this chapter. I hope it gets the feedback I've dreaming of since I first thought of this little plot…I can't even begin to tell you how nervous I am.**

**lilymarielle . livejournal . com**

**lilymarielle . tumblr .com**

* * *

**Chapter 15 – Aflame**

* * *

Loki closed the book with a snap.

Sunlight was streaming through the high windows and the library became warmly illuminated as morning settled.

He turned to look outside, mildly surprised that he had spent all night trying to solve the mystery that had been laid before him a few days ago. The secluded study area had been assaulted with tomes and heavy volumes, some bound in leather, some bound in metal.

He gave the book a look of distaste, disappointed that it had failed to provide him with the answers he so earnestly sought, and tossed it aside. It fell on top of the others that had been useless and vague, none of them helpful to his purpose.

He must have been quite violent in his treatment of such precious books, for the moment it fell with a thud, Anundr walked inconspicuously into his line of sight, almost hidden by the towering pile of writings.

"I disapprove of your treatment to these books, my boy." He pursed his lips as his eyes moved across the space before him, so disorganized.

Loki smiled apologetically. "Forgive me, sire. It has been quite a long night."

Master Anundr raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I know. I have not had you sleep in these halls since you were younger, much younger."

The prince pressed a hand to his eyes attempting to relieve them of their aching. "And I never thought they would fail me."

"Fail you?" Anundr's voice was scandalized. "What ever do you mean?" He asked and brought a leather bound tome close to his chest.

Loki looked at him, exhausted and frustrated. "They have not given me the answers I seek."

The elder was slightly amused. True, many things that happened had yet to be explained and he had been certain that the realm's library did not hold all the knowledge of the universe. "Perhaps you have to be more thorough in your search."

"How much more thorough can I be?" Loki waved his hands around, pointing at the very obvious extensive search he had conducted. "It's been three days and I have devoured books upon books and none of them have been of any use." He sighed, slumping back into the high back chair.

Anundr knew better than to ask what the prince had been searching for. If he had wanted to confide in him, he would have already done so. He assessed him fondly. Never before had he had a more eager student. Since a young age, Loki had developed a rapt curiosity, prompting his thirst for knowledge. It had been even more encouraged by the discovery of his skill and powers and the Archives Master had been glad to provide a safe haven for him. The old man felt his distress. For Loki, knowledge was power and being ignorant was not something he was comfortable with.

"Well if you have not found any answers here, perhaps you should not be here." He said, now bending slightly to load the books into his arms.

He turned his green eyes, startled by his old master's statement. "Am I no longer welcome here?"

"Oh, not at all." Anundr waved his hand dismissively. "You are always welcome here, of course. I am merely wondering if the answers you seek are not here, then should you not be where they are?"

His eyebrows knit together. "Are you referring I should go to the problem itself?"

"Precisely."

It would be dangerous. As much as he would like to know, he was not certain Kára was ready for this confrontation and he dared not tell her what he had seen and felt. Perhaps she did not even know, although that was highly unlikely. Bu he dared not risk it. He would have to be sly and maybe a bit deceptive.

"Observation is the most basic form of knowledge." Anundr continued.

Loki made a twist to his hand, feeling every page of every book laid around him. He focused harder and pushed with his mind, now watching as each book soared towards their rightful place. He stood, quite amused to see his old teacher clutch a hand to his chest, attempting to rush behind the most valuable tomes, afraid they might fall and become damaged.

"Loki!"

The prince in question chuckled, only half-heartedly attempting to cover the grin on his face.

Anundr fixed him a chastising stare. "You should not make fun of your elders, young prince."

"You are right. I humbly apologize, sire." He bowed slightly, a familiar sort of affection for his old master and a not so ashamed glint in his eyes.

Old Anundr sighed, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards involuntarily. "Yes, yes. But please, do not let it happen again. One of these days, one of them is going to fall down and…"

"And I would not want you to die, now would I?." Loki finished with a grin. "I shall be more careful in the future."

"Good." The old man nodded. "Now go, get some rest or you will look old, like me."

Loki acknowledged him with a nod of his head and with a last look of dissatisfaction towards the halls, he left, determination settled in his heart.

* * *

He did not rest.

He could not rest.

Inquisitiveness clawed at his mind like a seeping disease, luring him into almost abandoned recklessness. He had known all along something was different about Kára. It had confused him, confounded him even. And he had befriended her on that account, certainly growing fondness for the girl. Yet there was always something alarming when it came to his zeal whenever she was near, talking, laughing, setting those strangely undoing eyes on him, disengaging his every thought.

She had seemed a plain sort girl, unusually common for someone of her station. It appeared, however, that she had a powerful secret: one that could not be explained and had not been explained before. He vaguely wondered if his father had known all along. Most likely he did. If so, he had chosen to conceal this from his sons. That alone made Loki more ravenous to possess it, the knowledge of whatever it is that she held inside.

It would be dangerous. She had hurt him the last time he tried to grasp her mind. And still, he could not bring himself to acknowledge the peril of his actions. He had a theory. Last time, he remembered, the dynamism inside her had acted out on him, defensive and possessive. She had been worried, outwardly showing signs of alarm: rapid breathing, racing heart, slight perspiration.

She had been ready for an attack. From him or herself, he did not know. But she had been prepared.

It could be easy to get past this particular impediment. If his theory was to be assumed correct, of course.

But he found no other course of action. So, with an uncharacteristic reckless plan in his mind, he set off to find her.

She had been easy to find. The little work she had at the healing ward nowadays made it prone to find her down in the grounds. She had deviated slightly from her preferred site at the valley, now to be found at the edge of the towering trees, somewhere along the edge of the lake, where the shade provided much comfort from the sun.

Kára heard the hooves of his horse from a considerable distance. She smiled in spite of herself.

She straightened up, with a hand to her eyes blocking the glaring rays of sun and the other brushing down her dress. To her chagrin, this only covered it further in dirt.

"Good morning." She called out a greeting to him as he approached.

He did not step down from his horse, but circled her. "Good morning, Kára. You look busy today."

She looked down at her dress, smothering it. She blushed. "Shouldn't you be busy yourself?"

He smirked as he stepped down the beautiful chestnut creature. "I am entitled to my time however I please."

"Yes, I suppose. But what are you doing here?" She wondered.

He mocked an affronted look. "Really, Kára. Must you be so unwelcoming?"

Kára looked up, startled. "No, I…"

"I should think that as prince of Asgard I am allowed to go wherever I want. But my presence offends you, in which case I should take my leave." His voice was hurt and dramatic, very unlike him but it succeeded it purpose.

"Loki, I am sorry. I did not mean any offense by my question. You know me, I often inquire in very harsh tones and you should not think that…" She stopped her rambling, now watching as Loki tried very hard not to laugh. There was a sparkle in his eyes, a mischievous glint that he often wore.

"Really!" She called out. "Must you always do that?"

Loki let out a laugh, delighted at how easily he could read her. "I cannot help it, Kára. It is quite fun." There was something fascinating about that, if he now thought about it. She was easy to read and yet he could not find her predictable.

"You are abusing my patience, you know. One day I may not be so forgiving." She said, raising her eyebrow for effect.

He grinned, knowing she did not mean it. "I doubt it. You have unlimited patience."

She chuckled, kneeling on the ground again, set on getting back to work. "I would not be so sure about that."

"Oh, but I am sure." He replied, intent on having the last call.

Kára sighed, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "So what are you really doing here?"

"I grew bored." He simply said.

"And you thought you could come find me for amusement?" She asked, shooting him a reprimanding look.

"Not exactly." He said. "I am entrusted with the vigilance of the grounds today. As I am finished, I thought I could come greet you."

She smiled up from pulling the roots with aggressiveness. "Well, if you are bored, you are more than welcome to assist me."

He raised an eyebrow, and incredulous look on his face. He stood before her, hands grasped behind his back. "You want me on my hands and knees with dirt all over me?"

Kára grinned, in spite of what sounded to be an insult. She did not expect him to do it. With such regal clothing, he did not look at all the part. She had only asked because it had seemed ridiculous and was sure he would pass up. "You make it sound so unbecoming."

"I will help you." He said, after a while of thought. "You look quite done for."

She quickly ran a cleaner hand through her hair, nervously attempting to comb it with her fingers. Only when he knelt down to help her did she find him grinning jovially, a playful trait.

She touched the soil where the roots had been pulled up and grabbed a fist of it, throwing it at him with half-hearted attempt and laughed.

* * *

It was done.

Loki let out a breath, calming his anxiousness. He sat with his back against a tree, looking out into the lake. His knees were drawn up where his forearms rested as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked downwards to the side.

Kára was fast asleep, laying down on the grass quite unguarded, vulnerable to his every attack.

Sometime after agreeing to help her, he had reached out to the land, infecting plants around her with sleeping properties. She would touch them and they would act, polluting her unsuspecting mind with drowsiness and stupor. She fell asleep before he had predicted.

He had waited until heavy sleep reached her then carried her to the edge of the lake, where a small batch of trees were drawn together, shielding them slightly form prying eyes. He needed privacy for what he was about to do.

He pulled up from the tree, facing her now. Her breathing was slow and even. Her heart no longer racing from the exercising work she had been doing. She was defenseless and unprotected. Body and mind were unguarded.

He took a look at her face, relaxed. She trusted him. There was a gnawing piercing sensation in his chest, guilt most likely, but it would not stop him. There was no reason she needed to know, but he hoped she'd forgive him.

He took a deep breath, one last look at her face and closed his eyes, reaching out for the waves of power inside her.

They did not feel as they did before. Instead of lashing out at the intrusion, it felt as if they were dormant, expectant of the intruder they felt. Around him they danced, but not aggressively as before, but just present. It was odd. They did not feel part of Kára, yet that power lived within her.

He probed on further, his eyes tightly closed in concentration. Somewhere amidst the swirling calmness of energy, he found another presence, an entity very different from the one he had felt before and yet familiar in all its entirety.

It was warm and it welcomed him, touching him with scorching invitation. He wanted to resist it, wary and afraid of the unknown, but it pulled him in. Perhaps against his own consciousness he let it lead him towards it, entirely seduced by its purity. It was docile, allowing him to grasp it tightly. It did not attack or recoil. Instead, it languidly gained on him until it was invading his mind. The essence was gentle, feeling almost like a caress that touched his soul, soothing and peaceful.

It was Kára. This was her.

Startled by this, he almost failed to take hold of her, but he caught the deepest part of her mind and grasped it tightly with his own.

Suddenly, he was falling. Falling down an endless void of time and memories, blurring past him like traveling across realms. He was not a superficial trespasser of her psyche, but the spectator of her life.

He released a powerful wave of energy, attempting to gain control, but something peculiar happened. He was no longer an omnipresent beholder of a memory, but part of it as it built itself around him.

Fields of golden daffodils stretched across the land and towering trees grew among them, shaping itself into a forest. The trees were of a vivid green, displaying vibrant life inside them. The land itself felt alive, with spirited essence. The wind was brazing through their leaves, rustling them gently. The soft sounds made him close his eyes. It was powerful.

He heard a soft laugh and opened his eyes, scanning the land before him. It echoed around him like a recollection of times past, enfolding him with childish innocence.

Far along before him, a little girl was running away from him. She did not look back, but contented herself to skip animatedly.

"Hello?" He called out at her, but she did not hear him. His voice sounded muted and unfamiliar. He was a stranger in her memory, never part of it.

He went after her, walking by with bizarre smoothness. His hands fell by his side, trying to catch the soft flowers in his hands. They escaped his grasp. He was unable to touch something that was not present, that was merely a remembrance.

He kept following her until he could see a palace in the distance. It looked over the land from a hill that was slightly higher than the rest around it. It seemed to be made of rock, wood and gold, entirely in harmony with the nature about it. Trees grew around it, shielding it, as they were part of it.

A soft giggle beckoned his attention back towards the girl. He could only see the top of her dark hair, but she was turning around.

Suddenly, the scene shifted and he no longer found himself in the outside land, but inside the castle. He was in a hall of the richest wood, a courtyard to his left side. The hall wrapped itself around it, with glassless windows adorned in ornate carvings. He heard a booming laugh and turned hastily.

Around the corner, walking along the hall was a man. He was big and bulky, with dark hair and beard and round hazel eyes. He had the appearance of a benevolent king, regal and good hearted. He was dressed in robes of the deepest scarlet adorned with a golden belt that rounded his protruding stomach. Any shorter and it would have made him look stocky. But he was tall and it only enhanced his authority.

He did not have to wonder for long who he was. There was a woman by his side, with her arm wrought in his. She was tall and beautiful. Her dark hair was long and half bound behind her head. She looked like she could belong to the elves of Alfheim, dressed in pale blue. Gersemi held grace as she walked, powerful and captivating, only surpassed by the look on her cerulean eyes as she looked upon her king. Kára bore a strong resemblance to her, yet had more of her father if it was possible.

These were her parents.

Loki vaguely wondered why she did not seem like them. She looked like them, yes, but held no outstanding qualities as they did. He was pondering on that thought, focused in his scrutinizing of them, when he heard the soft laugh again.

It grew louder and louder, until it was almost with him. He heard the soft paddling on her feet before he saw her, but he somehow knew it was her. She gave a shrieking laugh and rounded the corner on the other side of the hall, opposite of her parents.

He was not prepared for her. Somehow, this invasion of her mind made him feel overwhelmed. He could not have imagined her childhood and suddenly he was living it. He felt like a spoiled child, having acquired a new sweet, eager and excited.

She was running towards him, a vision in white and blurriness. Kára could not have been more than four or five years old, he concluded, as she came closer towards him. There was pure joy in her run, a spring to her step as she saw her parents. For a moment she looked directly at him and he felt himself smile. She was treasured innocence, childish play. She looked like a babe in a mad array of dark loose curls, her full cheeks looking so soft and pink.

Behind him, her parents watched amusedly as her governess, he suspected, rounded the corner as well, followed by another. They gasped for breath and Kára looked back, let out a squeal and ran for her life, laughing in delight and mischief. She passed him and he had the sudden urge to lift her in his arms and hold her close, protect her. But he had to reminds himself that he was not physically there. This was just a memory.

"Child!" A woman who looked older than her mother drew closer, carrying what looked to be a small gown. It was only then that Loki realized the young Kára was barefoot and in her sleeping nightdress.

"Kára, darling." Gersemi's voice was chastising. "Have you run away again?"

Little Kára smiled boldly, a cheerful glint in her big, brown eyes. "No."

"No?" Gersemi asked to be confirmed, her bright blue eyes framed by high eyebrows. "Then why do I see poor Amma and Bergdis running after you?"

Loki looked back. Bergdis, Kára's handmaiden looked much younger, barely having reached womanhood.

"They like to play games, Mama!" Kára's voice rang out across the hall, jovial. Gersemi tried to hide her smile, shooting an apologetic look at the two women in front of her. "Have you had trouble with her?"

Amma, the older woman, curtsied. "No, your grace. No more than usual at least."

Gersemi nodded, now distracted by her king who had taken his daughter up in his arms. The little girl gave a shriek as her father threw her in the air to be caught back in his embrace. "More, papa!" She demanded.

Loki raised his eyebrows. She knew children defined their personality since a young age. This was obviously the youngest daughter of the family, spoiled and highly astute. Demanding and more restless than her sisters, by the look on her mother's face, she was the little angel, the joy and bursting energy of the household. But Kára today was not like this.

Folkvar laughed, tickling his daughter with his beard. "You are my little angel, just like your sisters." He told her fondly.

"You should reprimand her, not reward her." Gersemi's voice was teasing and there was a bemused smile on her face.

The king nodded, as he knew he should do. "Kára, you should not run away from Amma and Bergdis. Hold still when they are looking after you, yes?"

Her father's command was authoritative, but she could hardly bring herself to listen. She had just found a rather shiny piece of jewelry on her mother's hair and was reaching out for it. Gersemi took it off herself, a small white flower. "Would you like to wear it on your dress, darling?"

Kára eagerly nodded, pushing the rebellious strands of her hair away from her face.

"Well, then. Be a good girl and let Amma bathe you. I will put it on your dress when you are ready." She said and kissed her arm.

Kára giggled as her father settled her back on the ground. He gave her a fatherly pat on her bottom that sent her scurrying off with her governess, as they affectionately looked her on. She took a hold of both her caretakers' hands and walked on, her chubby little legs moving fast to catch up with them.

Loki was about to follow her when the place around him changed again. He was not in the courtyard anymore, but in a cozy, spacious bedroom. The stone walls did not feel cold, but warm and inviting, covered in tapestries. A small fireplace illuminated the figures before him. There were 4 beds, but four bodies occupied only one of them. Kára's sisters were older than her. He could tell by the difference in height if he searched closely for their silhouettes beneath the covers. They all seemed fast asleep, except for Kára.

She was nestled between her sisters, her wide eyes captivated by her mother's voice. She looked older too.

Gersemi sat on a chair beside the bed, a tattered book in her hands. "And a star fell from the skies above. She was a vision wrapped in fire, hair lighter than the silvery waterfalls and eyes green like the trees she had loved for so long." Her voice was melodic and he could hardly blame little Kára for being so enraptured with the tale.

She pulled the covers up to her chin, balling them in tight fists as she hung on to every word. She gasped when her mother continued. "The prince rode far across the land, searching for her. When he found her, he had to still the mad thumping of his heart, for he had never seen anything as beautiful as she."

There was an eagerness and longing in her eyes, restless with curiosity. He failed to listen further. Her mind was pulling that memory away from him and pushing him on to another, where she was even older, around eight years of age.

She was out in the field with the rest of the gatherers. A white apron covered her blue dress and like the Kára he knew, it was dirty from the recollection of plants in the field. She found an insect of some sort in one of the plants and invited him into her hand. Delicately, she carried it her fist glancing around until a small smirk tugged at her lips. She approached the boy silently. He looked slightly older than her. With stealthy purpose she came to crouch behind him, where he was pushing a shovel into the ground. Slowly, she put her hand up and settled the insect on his back.

With barely concealed mirth she ran back to her space in the field, where she took her position as if nothing had happened. A little while after, they heard a scream and she turned to find the boy flapping his arms about, wildly trying to reach his back in a panic attack. Kára merely laughed, satisfied.

Loki raised his eyebrows. She was a troublemaker. Who would have thought?

Suddenly, another scream was heard. It was high pitched and set in the distance. Soon, it was joined by another, then another more. Kára looked around wildly, her back straight to look even further. The wind had picked up and it blew off some of the hats the healers wore. She forced hers in place as she felt the earth change around her.

Chaos ensued. Loki himself was unaware of what was happening, but there had been a deviation in this scene…but the memory hadn't changed. He followed Kára's line of sight to find distant healers pointing at the sky. Some had not even bothered. They were fleeing, leaving behind baskets and tools, and carrying the smaller ones with them.

She looked up, eyes wide in frantic search and he saw it with her. A bright orb of light was rapidly growing larger, coming closer. The sky was steadily turning darker and the rays above shone like a powerful beacon of danger. Its yellow hue was firing waves of energy across the land.

It was a star. Loki stared, openmouthed. He felt everyone's panic rise inside him, but he reassured himself that it couldn't hurt him. It was easy to be fooled. Their fear, their horror shocked him into the reflex of abandon, wanting to put as much distance as possible between him and what was falling. He only had a split second to think this.

Just as quickly, Kára ran forward, crouching beneath the tall golden fields. Someone behind him was yelling, but she kept on going, ignoring the warning calls.

He lost sight of her as the scene shifted. He was still in the fields, but it was much darker and the falling star was nowhere to be seen. He feared it had fallen already, but where? Kára too must have been somewhere near, but he couldn't see her.

"Kára!" Folkvar's booming voice bellowed to his left. With him, many men and women dressed in armor were calling her name as well, but no voice was more powerful than her father's. "Kára!" He carried her name, stretching wide across the land, but got no answer. The wind had picked up and his robes were rustling around his legs.

"Have you found her? Can you see her?" Gersemi was beside herself. Her eyes were longer graceful and delicate. They held desperation, fear, alarm. So much and so little her expression gave away. "Kára!" Her name was called out shriller in her voice, yet more frenzied and violent.

"Mama, we cannot find her!" A young woman came up to her, with hair lighter than her sister and so very much like her mother.

Gersemi looked at her husband, pleading with a heart completely bared.

"Siri, take your sisters and go inside."

But the eldest of his children ignored him. "No! I want to look for her. She is my sister. I will not leave her!"

"Go inside!" Folkvar commaned. He glanced at his eldest daughter, brave and constant, a fierce protector like he was. He took her in his arms and hugged her, kissing the top of her head. "Lead the rest back inside. That is your duty."

Siri beseeched her request with her eyes, but got no response. She nodded, defeated and helpless tears dropped from her eyes. She took one last look at the land that seemed to stretch forever and left, taking several others with her.

"Your grace!" A soldier was pointing at his feet. Gersemi was at his side in an instant, hope written across her face. But Kára was not there. The man was pointing at the ground, where rays of red and yellow, blue and green were coming closer, slithering across the soil like languid serpents. They glowed in harsh hues, pulsating, infiltrating the land.

They were like veins in a body, coming to life with raw power flowing inside them. They throbbed slightly, a glow simmering in their path like molten rock. Slowly, they grew longer, coming closer to them.

Loki felt the imminent danger and he felt like screaming. He wanted to yell at them, tell them the direction she had gone off to. He wanted to let them catch her and take her to safety.

Folkvar held out his arms in a protective stance of his people. He took several steps back, and swallowed with difficulty. His eyes scanned every crevice, every space of land to find her, but she was gone. He had failed, as a father and a king. He grit his teeth as angry sorrow embraced him. It was too late.

"No!" Gersemi's loud wail seemed to snap him out of his reverie. She too had seen the vines of the star's power nurturing the land. "My darling! No!"

Folkvar took her in his arms and held her close, crushing her into oblivion, where he could momentarily dream this was not happening too…

Loki could watch no longer. He saw at last when soldiers pulled their sovereigns back, against their mighty fights in a last attempt to search for Kára… little Kára who had been lost.

But now, he had to find her in her own memory. He walked further along, following the trail of the glowing lines in the ground. They were stable now, not growing, merely pulsating and humming like an old, long forgotten chant.

The longer he walked, the darker it became. He was now deep inside the forest, where trees grew shorter but closer, abundantly. It was then that he noticed Kára walking a little ahead of him, but she was hiding, approaching carefully, partially hiding behind trees.

He walked faster, trying to catch her face. She looked determined and curious; foolishly unaware of the danger she was heading for. Loki grit his teeth in a mad attempt not to yell at her. Even if he did, she would not hear him. There was raw eagerness in her heart, displaying itself in ardent excitement. Her hands shook, but there was no mistaking the triumph in her eyes.

She stopped abruptly, an inaudible gasp caught somewhere in her chest. Light illuminated her face as she stared, entranced at the figure before her.

A little distance away, the star lay on the ground. Loki, like Kára, stared transfixed. Her ominous presence was tangible in the earth. It was the most beautiful and the saddest thing he had ever seen.

She was divine, even in her last dying moments. She did not look old, but young like the light elves. Her hair was lightest color, white in contrast with the yellow hues that were coming out of her. Her body lay broken and exhausted against a tree, comforting herself with the nature around her. Her yellow eyes looked miserable yet purposeful as she touched the ground beside her, lovingly.

Seemingly slipping in and out of consciousness, her breaths were coming in short, shattered gasps, feeble attempts to hold on to a life that was no longer hers. Life engulfed her in flames of the lightest golden gleam. They too, seemed to be suffering, as they flickered weakly around her, covering her body, shielding her.

The star touched the ground once more, peaceful satisfaction in her exhaling breaths as her body seemed to mist itself into the ground, slowly. Her hand upon the ground gave way to another vein of light that twisted and slithered away from her, and the ground around it seemed to become alive.

And Loki understood his Master's words. _It is a star's last will to save a life, and so…their essence impregnates the land and they simply fade._

But these stars had grown ambitious. They did not merely seek to save a life. They saved multiples lives, providing their spirit and essence for a land that evolved with healing substances, properties, their last will.

This new vein of light was heading directly towards the younger Kára and she took a step back. A broken twig was the harshest sound to be heard and the star turned her head abruptly.

_Stars do not like to be seen…stars do not like to be touched._

The most horrible sound seemed to be coming out of her mouth, open in agony. It was a scream and a wail, and yet sounded nothing like any of those. Her eyes were furious and had turned white. She had transformed into something terrible…terrible and still so magnificent.

The veins of light around her recoiled from the land, absorbing themselves back into her as her hands twisted into what seemed like claws, her body arching upwards in a painful display. And the power that had stretched across the land had a mind to return to its owner, but it was so unleashed now that it would not go back. It danced around her in a mad scramble of energy waves and flaming tongues, icy shards and a powerful wind.

The flames of light around her twisted aggressively and lashed out at the only living soul they could find, the land not being enough now.

And they seemed to move with deranged vengeance towards Kára.

She, the naïve, the foolish, the curious, could do nothing but stare. Horrified and afraid, she could not move. Her legs were like lead and her mind was obscured with emptiness.

They crashed onto her like piercing arrows, aflame with a power so uncontrollable and unrestrainable. Her small body was pushed back and her screams now matched the star's. She stretched her arms out into the heavens, a sacrifice of flesh and life. Her hair flew wildly around her body arched upwards, a twisted offering to the celestial bodies above.

But her screams…Loki groaned in pain. He could not feel hers, but her panic, her tormented face was enough to hurt him. She was being tortured.

She was being tortured by an entity that was supposed to saves lives, not condemn them. He could only watch, terrorized by her pain, as the glaring light twisted itself around her, engulfing her completely until she could not be seen.

Down in the ground, the star groaned aloud, followed by her last exhaling breath and the ultimate shining speck of light around her faded into nothingness.

Above, Kára's scream seemed to echo in a frightful, agonizing attempt to hold on to life, hold on to anything. The dancing flames wound themselves around her in tight arms, concentrating harder in binding her, until they seemed to melt into her.

She chocked on a dying scream past her lips and her frightful eyes opened wide and dead looking. And with a force so unlike anything he had ever seen, she was trashed back into the ground violently.

She fell somewhere to his left, a crushing sound of death and hollowness followed. Loki ran. He scanned his eyes wildly before him, gasping for breaths that were not enough to heal him.

Some distance away he saw her… her body displayed in awkward angles, innocent and broken, with nothing but emptiness around her.

* * *

**Slow breaths...slow breaths.**

**Well, what do you think? I am besides myself with anxiousness, hoping you will like this chapter as much I loved writing it.**

**It is not over...Next chapter Kára's past will continue but with more Loki/Kára.**

**Ah, but please don't hate me...I will probably take a few days before I update. I have 5 final exams next week and I way behind on my studies. ****I would really, really appreciate your support in these difficult times.**

**So...to newcomers: WELCOME! Please, leave a review. They make me so happy! And I just love hearing from all you lovely readers and followers.**

**To my old crew: WELCOME BACK! Thank you for such an amazing support systems you've given me. I can't thank you enough.**

**Replies to your reviews in my livejournal will be updated tomorrow as I'm about to just die of exhaustion...stay tuned!**

**So...review, review, review! Please?**


	16. Beyond Freedom

**Helloooo, everyone!**

**I am deeply sorry for the long time I took to update. It's the longest I've taken and I felt like hell for not doing it. **

**I had trouble with this chapter because it was so very special to me and to the story.**

**So…thank you SO much for your patience and impatience, which encourage me to write. Trust me, both help.**

**On my livejournal, I've added a couple of song recommendations. I hope you like them. Linkin Park's Iridescent is not exactly for the story, but more Kára's theme. When you know the lyrics, you'll see why. Trust me. So go check out my livejournal!**

**No more comments. I had an exam tomorrow and I'm hurrying to post this because I really wanted to. Please, please, be kind and tolerant about any mistakes you may find. I will revise this chapter further during the week.**

**Love you all!**

**PS: Just to be clear, we are still inside Kára's memories.**

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**Chapter 16 – Beyond Freedom**

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Loki stood there inside her memory, staring at Kára who lay on the ground, feeling the restless urge to take her in his arms and deliver her to safety…because he knew that she was alive.

A child's broken body was the only thing he could see, but the sight collided with his consciousness with a dangerous and frightful game. No child should ever suffer. No child should be struck down or hurt.

He had seen the promise of joy in her face and eyes, so alive and vibrant. There had been hope in a light so radiant that it was addling to see her now. There was no glow in her face, or light in her eyes. There was a shattered dream and uncertainty.

Try as he might, though, he could not understand what had happened exactly.

As if to answer his unspoken question, Kára's mind projected another memory: She had been found and brought back to the palace. He had visited this room before, in another memory, where Gersemi had been reading to her daughters.

Only Kára lay on the bed this time. She did not look ill or withdrawn, but looked only present. It may have been worse than illness or death. This was no peaceful sleep. She merely existed. The covers had been arranged about her while her mother sat by her side, stroking her hair. Gersemi's eyes implored her to come back to life, but little Kára did not move.

Pacing back on forth in front of the bed was Folkvar, his brow creased in worry. He looked tired and older than he had seemed before. When he spoke, his exhaustion carried on like dragged dead weight. "I've sent for the Elder, my love. I do not know what else to do."

Gersemi did not seem to acknowledge him. She continued to stroke Kára's hair with a faraway smile on her face. "He will know."

As if on cue, a slouched figure appeared by the doorway, which was guarded by men in armor.

He was an ancient man, dressed in humble, light colored robes. Wisdom was etched upon every line of his face, even if his eyes seemed to be too weary to focus on sight. His bare head was bowed, watching his slow steps carefully as he entered further into room with the help of a walking stick. His dark eyes were rimmed with gray, opaque and knowledgeable.

Loki had heard about him before, from Anundr. He was the Elder, the keeper of the chronicles of life on the land. He lived in isolation with only the company of time by his side: time passed, time present and time yet to come. He knew the history of the heavens and the land…and most importantly how they collided. He was the most resourceful being on accounts of the celestial bodies that fell and died on this land and he may as well have been the only one who could provide the family with answers.

He spared a glance at the little girl on the bed, not with sympathy or curiosity but with careful assessment. His back was curved and he turned his sight upwards with difficulty, exhaling with tired breaths. His eyes took her in swiftly, turning almost instantly to her parents who anxiously awaited his response.

"Your daughter went looking for the star." His voice, like him, sounded as if it had not been used for some time, raspy and hoarse, laced with the course of a long life. He stated this as a mere reflection of what had happened. It was not a question or inquiry…he knew.

Folkvar stared at the Elder, not quite sure how to take it. "We are not certain what has happened to her. We thought her dead, but when we found her this morning…"

The Elder spoke with little regard to Folkvar's explanation. He seemed to be in a distant train of thought. "The storm has passed." He then turned a piercing eye towards Kára. "Strange, is it not? When a star falls, the storm usually lasts for days."

"We do not know what happened." Folkvar repeated. "It simply stopped and we went looking for her."

The Elder shuffled further towards the bed, placing a wrinkled hand on the little girl's forehead. "I presume you mean your daughter, sire…but, the star, did you find her?

The patriarch seemed helpless and lost, even through his attempt to decipher the Elder's comments. "No one has seen a star. It is impossible."

"But your daughter has, sire." He let out with a scratchy, tired voice. "I am afraid it is quite possible."

Gersemi could not suppress her worries. "But she'd be dead. How could she have survived this?"

"I assure you, your grace, Kára has not been harmed…"

Folkvar, mistaking this as a confirmation that his daughter's well-being was intact, probed on. He had, after all, the responsibility of a realm and its people on his shoulders. Without the star's magic and power, the land could not provide healing resources and his people would be lost.

"What of the star?" He asked, intent on discerning everything.

"She has passed away." The Elder answered solemnly. "Fading back into the fires of Muspelheim, from where they were born, as all the others who fell before her have done."

"But if all happened accordingly, her powers would have been inherited into the land. Why are there no scars on the land? Where have her powers gone?"

The Elder sighed, fixing his serene eyes on Kára. "They live inside your daughter."

Gersemi looked up from where she sat, her tear-stained and tired eyes attempting to make sense of what she had heard. "How…how is that possible?"

Her husband stopped his pacing and stared at the Elder, unable to do much more.

"My liege." He began. "Stars are zealous creatures. Noble and heroic, it is true, but jealous of themselves and their power. When a star falls to die, she binds herself to this land, inheriting her powers to it so that her final deed will be done. Stars die to save lives, however possible."

Loki knew this now. He had heard it from Anundr before. Still, he felt no more enlightened than how Kára's parents seemed. And he could do little and ask nothing, which had him at a disadvantage. Even so, Kára's memory was clear and vivid and he only hoped they had asked the right questions; to give him the right answers he sought.

"When young Kára stumbled upon the celestial body, she caused a rupture in the bond between the land and the star." He continued, patiently explaining what the Chronicles explained. "The star suffered before she passed on, unable to complete her will…but her powers and essence, unfit to feed the land without her channeling connection, attached themselves to the purest, most vibrant being they could find…your daughter."

"I do not understand." The younger man asked. "What will happen to my little girl? We found her…near death. You can't tell me the star did not harm her."

"She did not, sire…at least not in the way we harm one another."

Gersemi stepped in. "Then what is happening to her?"

"She will sleep for as long as it takes. The star's powers are much too strong for her. Her body is not powerful enough to sustain such force. She will come back when she is ready to and not a minute sooner." He explained. "I must stress, your grace, the gravity of the situation. This has not happened before. Accounts on legends of time past have been made, but none that I can rely on to make an accurate prediction. Kára's life has been changed and she's now dependent on a dynamism we cannot understand. All I know is, it will need to bind itself to her in order to carry out the deed it was born to do."

"When will this happen?"

"It is unpredictable, sire." The old man responded with a sigh. "We do not know much more. Young Kára will survive, in her own way. She will thrive, but you must remember that another essence lives inside her, one that will dominate her if that is its will. They are independent to the other, yet dependent for survival…and, though that essence will thirst for lives to save, it may act differently in Kára's body. She must be protected from strong emotions that hurt the stars: chaos, cruelty, pain, fear, hopelessness…everything is now a danger to her."

The scene changed, dissolving quickly into nothing, until everything was darkness once more as Loki caught quickly on what Kára had been through. Traumatized and afraid she had been, forced to live as a puppet to another's will, not her own…ever afraid. At least, he suspected. It was too much, too quickly and her memory, even though it answered some of his interrogations, left more to be presumed.

He pondered on this as another memory built itself around him: this time back on the fields of gold she adored.

He seemed to be alone, with only the twigs of blond rustling in the wind. But he could hear her. She laughed like she did when he first saw her as a child. Turning, he found her a little older than her damaged self. Unlike her, however, she was happy once more. She laughed on her own, skipping through the overgrown grass with a flowing bow behind her.

And he felt happy. There was a sense of relief inside him, thinking that everything he dreaded, along with her parents, had been false. He had formed an attachment with this little girl, who was merely a shadow of the woman he now knew. It was difficult not to be enchanted. She was everything he had wanted to live…she was promises and hope, freedom unrestrained, freedom from the chains that bound him to failure.

Kára looked as she had been. There was a smile painted on her face, unlike the one he had seen many times. That one was peaceful and serene. This one was ecstatic and euphoric, contagious to the soul. He followed her for some time, unable to turn away from her. She had been entirely beautiful in her younger years.

A short distance away from the palace doors, she stopped abruptly like she had been struck still, and then leaned on the wall. A gasp escaped her lips as she doubled over, hugging her chest tightly. There was confusion in her eyes. Breathing deeply, she stood still for a moment and that's when she heard it. It was a deplorable sound, a cry not belonging to a person, but an animal and equally distressing.

Kára lifted her head to find sweat had broken from her forehead. She turned from side to side, looking for the source and she winced when the squealing intensified.

She found her target where a group of boys had gathered around an animal, a small goat by the looks of it. The pathetic creature had lost a leg and was attempting to limp away from its torturers, who taunted it gleefully.

Kára pushed herself away from the wall and half dragged herself to them. She pushed the boys aside with weakened shoves of her shoulders, until a small opening was found. Their leader, a robust boy with piercing green eyes was holding a torch of some sort, aflame, close to the animal's body. It gave a cry and tried to escape only to be pulled back into it by the rope around its neck.

"What are you doing?" Kára shrieked.

The boy laughed, ignoring her. His tortures grew severe when the flame actually caught part of the animal's skin. It leaped away desperately, to be pulled back once again. The missing leg destabilized him further and it fell like dead weight on the ground where it continued to writhe away.

The image was wretched and distressing, even for him. Perhaps because Kára's memories seemed to play it back in great detail, seemingly emphasizing every deplorable aspect of it.

"You have to stop!" She lunged at the boy, throwing her little body over him in a feeble attempt to stop him. Barely making him stumble, he reacted by pushing her away, into the ground, as her legs did not look like they could support her.

In her memory and he suspected in her mind, at that moment the goat's cries grew deafening, mixed with cruel laughter that appeared to cause a taunting echo. Kára moaned in pain, holding her head with trembling hands while her eyes fell shut. Her scrapped knees pushed off the ground and she struggled to stand. Her expression might have suggested she was experiencing horrible affliction behind those eyelids.

"Stop." She whispered, but she could barely be heard. "Don't hurt him. Please, stop."

No one noticed her. She whimpered like a wounded animal when she locked eyes with the feeble creature before her. In her memory, its eyes appeared more human and they pleaded for release, mercy even. Maybe Kára was more perceptive to this, or it was simply her subconscious personalizing her memories.

Kára stood on wobbling legs, catching her balance just in time and when she stared at the boy, she did not look pleading, she looked enraged. A firm resolve flickered from her eyes and when she spoke, her voice carried out in a firm, darker tone. "I said…STOP!"

With her voice, a light so bright emanated form inside her in a burst of glowing embers. The ground shook with ominous feeling and Loki was temporarily blinded, as everything turned white around him. There was silence all around now. The cries had disappeared only to be replaced with shallow breaths, distressed and petrified. As the light began to dissipate in misty evaporation he could see bodies lying on the ground, writhing in pain. Some were shrieking, others were whimpering pathetically.

Loki stared at the body closest to him. It was one of the boys who had played part in the torture. The side of his face and upper body was exposed. His clothes had been singed off and his skin broke away as burning injuries developed faster than normal, exposing flesh tinged with blood so thick it was almost black. The tissue underneath was raw red, alive and vunerable. Like him, his friends were in similar fashion, the degree of their injuries varying. The goat too lay on the ground, but dead and incinerated.

His eyes widened in horror as he looked upon the lone figure kneeling in the middle of every other body. Kára was in shock, a deep catatonia of denial and confusion. She stared around, struggling not to break down as her eyes took in the destruction, the ravaging carnage she had caused. Her breaths were shallow and rapid. Shaking like a weak leaf left on the harsh, icy winds, her eyes wide, alarmed. "I'm sorry…" She whispered, and there was fear in her voice…not shallow, but deep and rooted. "I'm so sorry."

Loki lost composure, forgetting his place and tried to grab her, shake her from stupor. But as he reached out for her, she dissolved in darkness followed by everything else. Once more, the memory changed and this time he found himself to be in her room.

It was dark and there were no candles or lamps lit. Through the window a solitary ray of moonlight passed illuminated the lump of flesh that could only be Kára. She looked older even, perhaps just on the verge of womanhood. She sat on her bed with knees bent to her chest, and head bowed. Her hair looked longer and matted, a bit unkept. Her hands were dry, with chapped skin glowing in reflection of light. She touched the light with wary fingers, looking up when she found they did not hurt her.

Her eyes looked empty, devoid of life. She was haunted by shadows and nightmares. Kára was slowly decaying into herself.

"Kára." Loki recognized Gersemi's voice. It seemed to come from the darkness. "Kára, darling. You must try to get out of this room." She sounded encouraging and optimistic, but not enough to fool him. "It's been years, my girl." She stopped and continued warily. "The boys…the boys are alright. They were healed…so long ago. You couldn't have known that would happen."

And as her voice disappeared so did Kára and the room. Next, he saw her walking out and about the palace. There was a haunted look in her eyes in the brief moments he caught them. She walked with her head bent down low, eyes glued to the ground, occasionally shyly looking up to see how other people turned away from her, suddenly deciding it would be nice to walk in a complete different direction.

Many people stared, quite openly as she passed, whispering to each other as if she was a mad disease to turn away from. They did not care if she could hear them or notice their hurried breaths as they talked. Others scurried away quickly, pulling children with them. Nobody dared stare for long. Many seemed afraid. An she, Kára, endured with a tightness in her throat and pitiful look in her eyes, ashamed and distraught, holding that basket full of herbs close to her body, her shoulders hunched as if they could protect her from the hurtful looks and murmurs thrown her way.

Her long hair covered the side of her face and she glided along, like a lost spirit forced to remain where she did not want to. The star's power was taking its strain on her. Her eyes seemed hollow and her features weakening. Her hair, once a dark shade of blonde, was slowly turning darker.

A relieved sigh broke out of her as she rounded a corner when the sight of two of her sisters greeted her. They argued as only sisters could. Laetif, older than Kára was slightly petulant and animatedly trying to convince Siri, the eldest of something.

Siri merely rolled her eyes, looking tired at her sister's antics. Laetif huffed impatiently as Kára drew near.

"Kára, you agree with me, right?" The blue eyed sister, Laetif turned to her. "I should be allowed to have the company of any young man while I can. I refuse to believe I should only be allowed to kiss the man I will marry. It could be ages from today!"

Kára smiled, even through her pain, amused at her sister's worries.

Siri's violet, stern eyes fell on the blonde. "A lady must show proper decorum at all times. You know I only worry for you, Laetif. You should be more patient. You impetuosity will carry more troubles than you want, trust me."

Laetif looked indignant. Siri walked past her, approaching Kára with gentle serenity. Laetif stuck her tongue at Siri's back, winking at Kára after.

"How was your walk sunshine? Did you have a pleasant time in town today?" Siri's kind voice was full of compassion as she pierced Kára with those eyes and the preferred term of endearment he saved for her.

Kára shrugged her shoulders, attempting to form a smile. "It was good." And, as if trying to prove or hide something, she added. "I picked flowers today."

"Would you like me to take them from you? I was just about to head inside."

The brown eyed girl passed her load towards her elder sister, who carefully looked for any signs of illness or peculiarity. Finally convinced that Kára was as safe as possible, she gave her a small shove with her hips, smiling widely at her surprised look. "Take care of her, will you?" She added, pointing furtively at Laetif.

Kára smiled and nodded. "I promise." Loki, by her features and expressions, could tell what Kára took from her sisters. Siri was the motherly type, the one who constantly worried about her people, especially her kin. She took the role of the matriarch when their mother was not around, even appearing stern when needed to be. As she was older, it was natural to carry that character. And Kára could lean on that strong rock for support. She could be safe with her, as with her parents.

"Pfft." Laetif huffed once more. "Just because she's already betrothed doesn't mean we all have to settle!" With her displeasure at Siri gone, she elbowed Kára excitedly. "I'm meeting Sveinn today."

"Again? But you saw him yesterday!" Kára's voice was hushed. It became obvious that she was in league with her sister in whatever secret she had.

"Yes, yes! But I can't help it! It feels like my heart might burst from beating so fast and sometimes it stops too." Laetif was besotted and her younger sister sighed longingly at her happiness.

"Do you think he will kiss you tonight?" She asked.

Loki almost smiled. Though her body had been broken and altered, her innocence remained very much like her. She seemed excited and perhaps a little awed at the idea of her sister being kissed.

At the mention of it, Laetif turned to stone, holding a hand to her mouth. "I do not know. Do you think he will? But Kára, what if I am horrible? What if I don't do the right thing?"

"Hush." She admonished, smacking Laetif's head slightly. "You will be perfect. Of course you will not forget to tell me all about it, yes?"

"Who else would I tell? Just leave you door open later tonight." The blonde ushered out nervously.

"I wonder…" Kára began. "What must a first kiss feel like?"

A very dark and very dangerous thought broke in Loki's mind. He could hardly help himself. It would be a beloved prize. There was a waking urge inside his chest that whispered…insinuated the feel of her undefiled lips hardly moving against his as he controlled and ravaged. And he could steal so much more, because at that moment he forgot or chose to ignore what pain she had gone through, the horrors of her life and merely saw her for his own selfish desire.

Because something that was kept so strictly guarded deserved to be robbed of in a most spectacular manner. He would revel in the doubt of her eyes as he became the first and only one to touch her, the wonder and confusion as he slowly discovered her…

The thought felt wonderfully profane.

Laetif laughed, returning Loki's attentions back to the memory. "Well, little sister, you may soon know for yourself! I've been told of a certain one who can't stop talking about you." She elbowed Kára again and the younger one winced away, trailing behind the bouncy Laetif.

Kára's smile was doubtful but compliant to her sister.

As they both walked back into the palace, he reflected on the opposite poles of her life and education. She loved Siri because she was someone who she could rely on to be protected, to be taken care of.

But Laetif gave her the opportunity to live…live without her fears and destruction. She normalized her every day life in a way that was both helpful and merciful. And for those brief moments that they were alone, they could pretend nothing had happened and worry about what every lady their age would. It must have been blissful to ignore.

The seeming matter around him dissolved once more into nothing, enveloping Loki in a dark cloak. The very same street he had been on, had seen the sisters on, was now illuminated by the two half moons in the sky. The night was quiet and peaceful, promising loneliness, but a sound was growing louder the closer it got.

Coming from the tunneled darkness, Loki strained his eyes to see, only vaguely aware that this, being a memory, would not allow him to see anything it was not willing to show. There was a soft padding and friction on the earth, like hurried feet.

Kára soon appeared, the heavy cloak flapping around her body as she walked briskly towards him. She looked around, her stance nervous, then continued on, passing him by like a thief in the night's watch. Loki followed her and together they took turns and passages through town, her unrelenting nature in search for something…or someone, Loki soon found out.

She was nearing a corner, her panting breaths the only sound that broke the stillness of the night. She was about to round it when she suddenly stopped, startled. Adjusting the cloak's hood over her head, she smiled and pressed her front to the wall, slowly moving her head to peer around the corner.

Loki moved freely and went ahead to see what Kára had been so adamant to catch up on.

He almost smirked. Laetif was locked in a powerful embrace with a handsome young man of the lightest hair he had ever seen, even for Asgard.

But he was less interested in her sister. Turning to Kára he found a wide brown eye, peeking from the corner. The cloak's hood covered much of her face and hair, but her eye held surprise and amazement as she watched the passionate embrace of two young lovers.

She exhaled and her breath felt like a suppressed longing trying to break free, trying to scream that she was there too, waiting for someone to claim her. The romantic notions of a child, for she was just like a child still, collided with the restless spirit of her heart. She touched a hand to her lips, seemingly wondering if they held the same capacity for sensation.

All of a sudden, without warning or sound, a hand shot out at Kára's shoulder, yanking her harshly back around. Loki rounded the corner to find her scrambling back to her feet, pressing herself against the wall in the process.

A young man with blonde hair and hazel eyes was standing a little distance away from her, looking apologetic. He stood with his hand outstretched, offering help to the girl that was now pulling the cloak tighter about her, her gaze downcast, shying away. She seemed almost afraid that he would hurt her.

He, however, did not harm her. He continued to offer his hand with a small smile. When she decidedly ignored him, he scratched the back of his head. "I… I'm sorry." He whispered. "I did not mean to frighten you. I thought you were a thief."

At his voice, she flinched and moved further against the wall.

"I will not hurt you. Here… look." He stepped back, moving his hands to the open, where she could see them.

She stopped her erratic escape, hesitantly looking up. No one had offered her such a seemingly sincere smile in a very long time and she became absorbed in the charm of their happenstance, slowly letting her guard down… slowly exposing her vulnerability.

But Loki could see right through him. Lies required skill and enchantment, a finesse of verbal and physical communication that the young man lacked.

He moved slowly towards the right, looking out to where Laetif and her secret had been. They were gone now, having moved on to somewhere more secluded.

The blonde noticed too, because his expression changed faster than Kára had time to react for. She had barely finished straightening up, when he lunged at her with a force quite brutal for Kára's small frame.

He pinned her hard against the wall and her head sustained a blow that resounded through the silent night. Her cry of pain died on her lips as he pushed a hand against her mouth, his other arm tight against her throat.

Her eyes were wide in fear and horror as her hands clawed at his with a desperate need. Her swings were clumsy and inaccurate like those of a drowning man trying to stay afloat while her feet gave little kicks of balance.

He shushed her roughly. "It took a long time and I've finally got you alone."

Her movements became more frenzied, powered by the suffocating sense of hopelessness and panic. She cried out from underneath his hand, but he silenced her further. "I've been planning this for a long time and you're not going to ruin it for me."

He grabbed her hands, while letting go of her mouth. She couldn't cry out as his fingers were crushing her throat. He undid the cloak with erratic ease. Kára's eyes were crying tears of shame and terror, while she desperately looked out for someone, anyone who would help her.

"Let go." She choked out, though it seemed more of a petition than a command.

"You whore!" The blonde harshly voice out to her ear. "It's all your doing. If you're gone, they'll be gone… I want them gone!"

His recklessness was diving his senses, for in once coincidental movement, Kára was able to kick his kneecap and he stumbled with a groan. She fell to her knees, crawling to get away with difficulty. Her panicked breaths were raspy from damage and it seemed that she was wheezing more than breathing.

He was one her almost at once, slapping her cheek hard. She never stopped trying to crawl away, though. That is, until he got on her, trapping her knees with his legs. One of her hands lay beneath her, tangled in her escape attempt. She was facing downwards, her fingers digging the land with roughness.

"I'm going to make you pay for what you did to me… to all of us." His eyes were set on her with bloodlust evident in his very essence. "And once you're dead… the nightmares will die with you."

Kára was dazed, embraced by terror once she realized this had been once a young boy who had been torturing a small goat by the side of the road. "I'm so sorry." She ground out. "I didn't do it." She said this because it was true. Her parents said so, as did her sisters. It had not been her fault.

"Do not lie. It was you! You're a monster, an abomination. Everyone thinks so. There's word on the street every day as you walk by." He was talking close to her face now, spitting his fury at her face and into her hair. "I'm going to make it stop, for the sake of everyone. But first," He stopped and grabbed her chin, forcing her neck to twist to make eye contact with him. "I'm going to find out what you hide inside those heavy garments you wear. I'm going to break your skin and pull whatever it is that's inside you and destroy it."

He released her face, which fell back onto the ground where it was soiled with dirt and blood coming out of her mouth. She stared right ahead and for a moment, Loki thought she might have been staring at him. And it was that look in her eyes that he had seen before, more subdued, more silent, back in Asgard. She cried with a frenzied plea for someone… anyone.

Loki had to remind himself of that, for he felt like a caged animal. A beast threatened to burst out of his chest and he could do little to appease it. He observed with half a mind to stop watching, but he still needed more… he needed to know more about her. He needed to see her…

She gave a splitting cry when he touched her. He tore the garments from her back and she moaned, not in pleasure but in distress. He was inflicting horrors on her body as he befouled it but she was dealing with a much powerful horror inside. Unconsciously she rubbed her head on the ground, turning her face side to side. Her groans were painful to listen to, as they seemed to crawl right under the skin with an eerie promise.

"Look at you mewling." The aggressor spat with disdain. "You were a treasured prize once but nobody knew what you were, and now, you're nothing more than a bargain's last…"

Something moved him away from her, an invisible force that pushed him back. He was dragged across the floor for a bit and when he stopped he turned, scrambling madly to regain control. He did not advance on her again, but stared at her warily from his position, furious.

Kára had stepped up with a struggle, her dress half fallen across her shoulder, exposing white skin marred with gashes and dirt. Her hair went around her in disarray, sticking to her chin with blood. There was a palpable fear in her whole being, which rooted her to the spot. She stood awkwardly, trying to maintain her balance as the erratic breaths of her chest moved her. Her hands were out in front of her, attempting to hold on to something that was not there.

She turned around to face him, but she did not look triumphant. She looked panicked. "I'm so sorry." She said, sounding as if she could not stop what was about to happen.

Something struck her from the inside and she cried out, turning into a low groan. Her eyes were changing and Loki could no longer distinguish its white and dark counterparts. They were illuminated from the inside now, glowing like dusted gold.

Whips of glowing light shot out from her. They burned around her like snakes recoiling for attack. And whatever part of Kára that was still her, whispered. "No… don't do this."

But the whips were ready to lash out, slithering through the air with increasing ferocity. They too whispered things, angry things in tongues Loki could not understand. They fanned her like some protective shield, yet bound her from her core.

"You're a curse to us all." The young man whispered from the ground, awed and horrified. "You are death."

The whips reacted at once and as they flew across the distance from the two beings, the shrill cries of their insides turned pained, because she was not death. They were life and he had profaned it.

The night turned into blindness in white light and one by one the cords of energy whipped at the weeping man, their impact splitting his skin to reveal red, angry red slashes where the flesh became exposed. Loki heard a male scream, and a female cry out. There was a collision, the ground shook and everything dissolved into darkness once more.

When Loki next saw her, it was from a memory that had happened some time after the last incident. It was dark once more and everything was silent.

The stillness was broken as Kára walked out of the palace. She was barefooted, her dress in rags. The mystical eeriness in her walk was haunting. She had forgotten and lost herself in grief and sorrow. Her mind and body plagued with nightmares and visions of torment. An affliction she had caused…

She walked for a long time, her steps careless and weak. Her gown looked like it had been worn one too many times, torn on some places, clumsily sewed on others. But her face did the most impact.

Her now dark hair was unbound, being tossed about wildly by the wind and her walk. Its waves were gone, replaced by a heaviness of sorts. Her skin was pale and clammy, like she had not seen the sun for months. Those lips, once rosy, were dry, chapped and ashy, a perfect reflection of her decaying life.

Loki could not look into her eyes. For some reason, the uncertainty of what he would find frightened him.

But he looked up and faced her. His chest constricted. They were dead, unseeing. There was an absence of life in them, because no one could look that lost without being… still she moved, her gaze ahead locked in a void of darkness and pain.

Her gaze didn't waver, but tears fell from her empty eyes. Thick drops of liquid crystal had stained her cheeks by the time she stopped. They were a long way from the palace. The land was vast and green here, surrounded by flowers and herbs all around. It was a place of tranquility and solitude.

She became quite still, feeling the air around her legs, teasing her gown with little effort. Her gaze fell to her hands, which were bloodied from the half moon marks her nails had inflicted upon them. Her eyes were alive now, not with the happiness he knew, but with a thousand questions that remained unanswered. The expression on her face was torn now, between anger and sadness, as a sob escaped her parted lips.

The feelings inside her laced with pure energy made her shake in a mad surge of power, something she did not want.

Loki was attacked by the memory; not aggressively, no… but he was assaulted with all the feelings she had felt that day, the accumulated demise of her mind, body and soul. And he understood.

She had lived for years now in fear, with a guilty conscience as baggage. It whispered things into her mind: _murdered, destroyer, death_. Her treacherous mind fed that conscience with never ending images of everything she had done, everyone she had hurt. Inside, her soul had be torn apart time after time with every scream she heard, every sorrow families had felt when she had hurt someone, the desperate cry of the land she had destroyed.

And her heart had yelled that she didn't do it, that she had never wanted to hurt them, any of them. Her head was burning for the powers that intended to rescue and save lives were forced to live inside a body that was not strong enough for them, and because of that the outcome was corrupted.

Before her life lay nothing but the darkest of horizons, stretching far without a fine sliver of light ahead. How could she have done this? It hurt her, destroyed her to know she had caused this… and more so that she could still cause it, that there was more destruction in her hands… it pierced her soul with a thousand shards.

She could not live knowing…

She could not live hurting…

And she could not understand why it had been her. She cursed that day her younger, ignorant self had fallen at the romance of the star's false nature. She cursed the day she went looking for it.

It was her fault, all her fault. She was responsible.

But she could not live with that responsibility. The guilt was eating her inside, ravaging every fiber. She could not live anymore. Her walk said it, her soul felt it, and her eyes screamed it.

The injustice, the incomprehension was overwhelming. Turning her eyes to the sky, she opened her mouth with what little energy she had left and screamed her soul apart.

The sound echoed with such a magnitude the ground trembled. Her own anguish was powerful enough to destroy, taking the earth beneath her and melting it away, kindling it along with every living thing. Nothing came out of her this time: no light or fire, but there was an invisible force orbiting around her, killing things in its wake, tearing them apart as they traveled in rippling waves.

And where she had kneeled, she had formed a crater of dying things, watching as the plants' life burned away in small clouds of smoke, their small existence fading into nothingness. There was not life in that part of the land anymore. She had killed it, because her body could not sustain the power of such an entity, making it unpredictable.

The air had veins of smoke traveling up with the moon as the only witness to her grief. There was a vast loneliness around that had little to do with the remoteness of the place and more to do with the desolation within her.

Her eyes traveled around wildly, scanning the area. She took it all in as if it was the first time she had seen what she was capable of, what the essence living inside her could do. Disbelief, rejection, denial, alarm crossed her face in seconds, her chest exhaling breaths feeling it could exhale that essence.

She was standing in the wake of devastation. A destruction so personal it was clawing at her heart. She brought her arms to her chest, shivering with the chill of an emptiness no one could fill. _Lost, cold, alone_. The hope was gone. Her insides were crying out for someone to save her, but when spoke she looked up, directly at him, like she had known he'd be there now. He met her gaze, feeling her unspoken plea with the force of millions of voices caught up underneath.

"Save me."

He was undone. She begged him to help her with the faith of a child placed with ever growing hope. She was falling and had no on to catch her in their arms.

He answered before he knew what he was doing, because she had looked at him, right at him with those brown, desolate eyes and begged him. He, who could and would because she trusted him to do it. He felt powerful, merciful. He was the possessor of a treasured force, the sole discoverer of her true form.

"Yes."

He spoke but still he heard her voice until it died away then her face and her body. Everything dissipated into a cloud of smoke to be formed back into another memory.

This time too she walked. Unlike the other, she looked well groomed. Her black gown trailed long behind her, covering her completely. Her expression was one of resigned determination as her mother wept behind her. Gersemi walked calmly, her regal face succumbed to the pain of years.

Kára stopped at long wooden doors. Leaning her face against them, she took a deep breath, bracing herself. She traced the beautiful, intricate carvings with a loving touch. "You must not go in, Mama."

Gersemi halted. "Do not ask this of me."

"You must not go it. I have to do this." Kára repeated.

Her mother opened her mouth, many things on the verge of being said and nothing that would dissuade her. "You cannot ask this of me. I am your mother. I will not watch you do this."

"You must. You have taken care of me… and loved me my whole life. I could not have asked for a greatest blessing." She said with sincere gratitude. It was obvious that difficult struggle she was going through to speak. "But this curse… I cannot live with it anymore. I can never be happy. I must ask this of him."

"He won't do it." Gersemi responded through grit teeth. "He is your father, darling. What you ask for is something he will never grant."

The young woman, now so very different from the radiant girl he had seen, shook her head. "Can't you see, mother? I am cursed. He knows it." She seemed angry that no one understood. "I cannot live with the people's fear at my back, their anger and sorrow. I caused that and I will not live it anymore. If he loves me, he will be merciful."

Gersemi retracted, looking as though she'd want nothing more than to lay down her life for her daughter. "It is because he loves you, that he will not."

Kára closed her eyes, unwilling to listen to her mother. She took a deep breath, bracing herself and pushed the doors open.

Loki followed her, paying little attention to the magnificence of the Hall, the bright crimson tapestries with golden symbols, or the deep warming yellows and peaches that reflected too much of the star's nature for Kára to be comfortable. The wooden floors looked exquisite as she walked upon them.

Her mourning gown trailed behind her, slowing down when she did as she approached her father.

Folkvar sat on a throne of sorts, deep in thought. When he heard Kára approach, his eyes fell shut as if he was unwilling to see her, unwilling to hear her request. There was pain in his soul too and he could not look at his daughter.

She reached him, squared her shoulders proudly and spoke. "Papa," She began. "I… I come before you to request something that cannot be easily granted. I understand that my request is selfish and inconsiderate. But I… It is with great distress that I have walked these halls in my growing years. I cannot deny what has been asked of me by your people, our people." Her rant was well rehearsed, even with the slight tremors of her voice. "You are my Lord and Father and I hope you will find it in your heart to be merciful."

"I ask you, my Lord." Kára knelt at her father's feet, her vibrant plea now so fragile. "To please, end my life so that my soul can find peace." She looked up with wide, hopeful, desperate eyes.

Folkvar did not speak for a very long time and when he did, he still refused to look at her, perhaps thinking it would hurt him too much. "How can you come ask this of me?"

"You are my father. You understand my affliction like no other. I cannot do this anymore, Papa." Her voice broke. "Please."

He sighed and finally stared straight into her eyes. "Kára, are you unhappy?" He looked as if he knew the answer already and was merely looking for confirmation.

"Yes, father, I am." Down there, at her father's feet, she looked so miserable and lost. "I hurt people, Papa. How can I ever taste happiness, when I have caused so much misery and destruction? How can I be worthy of life?"

"Have you?" He asked. "Have you, Kára, knowingly and consciously wanted to do it?"

It was then that she cried, anguished tears marring a path on her cheeks. "No, Papa. I have never wanted harm to befall on anyone."

The helplessness in which she spoke was having an effect on Loki that was similar to her father's, it seemed. He dropped to his knees next to her, enclosing her shoulders in a tight embrace. And he, too, cried with a heartbreak only a father could feel.

"Then it is not you, my darling girl, who has caused this! You must see this. We have tried so hard to make you understand. It is hard, my love, I can only imagine. But you must have faith… in us, in your people and mostly, in yourself. He shook her shoulders gently, trying to make her see. "There is an entity living inside you, but it is not you. You have allowed it to possess you, giving up on your own strength." His words were soothing yet aggressive and they sounded truer than anything Loki had ever heard. "You befell upon a burden no child should ever know, but I never gave up on you. I've had faith in your strong, kind heart and I will not grant your request… because I will not fail you, I will not give up on you."

The strength in his voice was electrifying and from her fallen spirit, she addressed him. "I have never felt strong enough, Papa."

"But you are, my love." He brushed the tears from her eyes, cupping her cheeks with loving hands. "But I cannot help you find it. I can only make you aware of our undying faith in you. You will thrive because you are a daughter to this land and you will show your people that you are worthy."

Kára shook her head, smiling sadly. "I feel so different. I am not the way I used to be."

"No." He laughed softly. "You have merely remained hidden, afraid of hurting others. But you were destined to help. Your mother and I know as we know that you're still there, somewhere inside." He spoke to her like a child, like the little girl he had never wanted to watch grow. "So where is my little troublemaker?"

Her tears spent, she laughed softly, sniffling. "I do not know. I cannot feel her anymore." She confessed sadly. "I am… constantly aware of pain, Papa. Not mine, but the world's. I feel echoes of it. They reach me, whisper things. I can even sense them across the realms. They hurt…so badly. There's a sword piercing my chest, right here in my heart and I am helpless to it."

"Then don't be helpless. If it is suffering that hurts you, then you must end it."

"I do not understand. How is it possible to do that?"

Folkvar's wise face conjured a smile. "You help, Kára; aid those in need. Because it is our lives in the service of others that it is truly worthwhile."

"Will it end? All the suffering?"

He shook his head. "No." He said. "But one small person is enough to impact another and another, until help reaches those in the farthest corners of the universe."

Kára stared at her father, awed by the generosity she was now only discovering.

He pulled her face away from him, forcing her to look straight into his eyes. "You are flesh of my flesh…blood of my blood. I gave you life so that you could live it fully." He said, candidly speaking with adamant need. "So live it!"

The memory vanished quickly with echoes of the last of Folkvar's words echoing inside his head. No memories shaped up this time, but merely blurs of images coursing through Kára's dormant state.

Loki found it more curious, though, to find his face staring back at him. These too were memories, passing by quickly, each more treasured than the next. He was kissing her hand when he first met her. Her was circling with his own projection. He was then staring angrily down at her, curling his lip as he insulted her. Next he was touching her, lingering on her bruised arms. This memory lingered for a bit, until it too melted away.

Her voice was sounding clearer. His name was on her lips, and it carried on like a lover's whisper. Like a name secretly called out into the night in a plea and a caress.

And then he felt pain. He could no longer see his own body. He was once again merely a subjective presence in her mind, an invasion of her thoughts. He fell back into empty space, feeling two very different entities colliding inside her. One, fiery and electrifying was restless, lunging wave after wave of power at his invasion. The other, warm and pure, remained docile, languidly seeping through his presence with scorching tenderness.

He stopped breathing. He could not move. He had spent an entire lifetime in Kára's mind. His body felt weak and he could not summon the energy to tear away from her. The power was burning him, asfixiating him, choking him like an invader to be crushed.

_Save me._

He groaned, reaching out with his mind to grasp what life was therein Asgard that could help him. With great effort, her found them, the many living things on the land whether they crawled, slithered of remained still, he grasped onto them and pulled.

His cry was low as he fell to the ground on his back. He gasped for breath, touching a hand to his body, feeling his reality sink in. The cold air filled his lungs with urgency. His head throbbed. With a groan, he turned on his side then pushed onto his knees.

They were still on the valley, by the secluding shade of the tall trees. Asgard had never looked clearer; it's colors bright and alive, compared to the memories.

He was feeling calm again, regaining control of his motion. He looked warily at his side, where Kára still lay. Her peaceful self was still chained to the power of his magic, locked in sleep. It wouldn't be for long now, though. He roamed her body with his eyes, unsure if what he had seen that been real.

It could not be possible, that the feeble creature before him had gone through so much and held so much inside her. Secrets not many would understand, that not many would appreciate. And there was a vague thought at the back of his mind, imploring him to use her, to take advantage of her, ravage her powers for his own.

But as he closed his eyes, there was an image that spoke louder than his voice.

_Save me._

It screamed, cried out at him. It begged him, implored him. He saw her smiling face and art of her joy that had ben hidden. He remembered how she had treasured every memory concerning him. It made him wonder if perhaps, in Asgard, she had found some joy… and if he, however deluded his thought was, was the reason.

There was a warmth spreading in his chest, both alarming and soothing, even though it carried great responsibility.

He opened his eyes and looked, really observed. Her dark hair lay in a fan around her head, framing her face. That very same face he had seen looking so miserable and afraid. That face that smiled at him… smiled for him. She was infatuated with him.

It flattered him.

Not in an obvious, crude manner, but subtle and gentle. It flattered him for she was innocent and pure, the epitome of a female heart. She pinned for him, dream about him, thought about him. She was like a child in love with the greatest warrior. It held a romance that was both exhilarating and sobering.

It held promise.

He was that warrior.

And she… she was the strongest of them all. She was light and wind, fire and zeal. Mystifying and secretive she had been, until he uncovered her.

He felt pity for her, pain even at what he had seen her go through. He had seen her bared heart open for attack, had seen her soul at her most vulnerable state. He had loved her sorrow and it had claimed him.

She was beautiful in her courage, in her protection of life. He was enthralled and he could not explain it. So much he had seen, so little he could understand still, and so great was the change in the way he saw her.

He took his right and placed it on her chest, right over her heart. He sought signs of her awakening but none had come yet. He felt the pulsating heart, beating inside her body, assuring him that she was real. He did not remove his hand from her skin.

She was warm and soft. The collar of her gown teased him with an open sliver. He traced fingers across her throat, up her chin.

He moved without noticing, a knee on each side of her body, his face directly above hers. She breathed like she dreamt, not disturbances, just the gentle rise and fall of her chest. His right hand moved to his will, brushing the slightest speck of dirt off her cheek and the rebellious hairs that stuck to her forehead.

He returned his hand to her neck with deft fingers, his thumb stroking her jaw. He closed his eyes, bringing his face forth.

Her breathing caressed his nose. He was so close, he could almost feel them. His lips parted in agonizing anticipation. He felt a feathery touch that rocked his core with powerful shivers down his sides. Biting his lip, he stopped. He wanted to do it. He had wanted to do it for some time now. And now, that he knew they were untouched made him want them even more.

He cursed himself. He would not do it. Not like this.

His face moved upwards, touching his lips to her forehead. She tasted of sweetness and sunshine, of water and earth… so he lingered. He pulled up just a fraction and whispered against her head. "I will save you."

* * *

**Author's note: You may ask why we I didn't write Kára's thoughts and feelings during her memories and that's because they're all experienced in Loki's point of view and while yes, he's inside her, he's still merely a spectator.**

**Wow! This has been the longest chapter yet. Almost 10,000 words!**

**Guys, you are all amazing. Ihave read your reviews and will reply to them as soon as I finish studying. **

**Please, please, drop a word or two with your thoughts. I love hearing if you liked, your theories, etc.**

**Trust me, they make me very happy and they are greatly appreciated and treasured. **

**With love,**

**- Lily**


	17. A Savior

**Massive apologies, my wonderful friends! I can't believe it's taken me more than 2 months to update. I am ashamed and afraid many of you have forgotten about me. **

**Rest assure, I had not forgotten about you. These last two months were filled with a lot of stress, melancholy, and sadness along with some happiness.**

**On the bad side: my father's illness got a bit worse and it put a great strain in the family. I had all the comfort needed, but another blow struck my heart. My wonderful dog, Luna, a border collie of the sweetest nature, passed away. I confess I was depressed for a few weeks, adding to the stress of final exams.**

**On a happier note: I am sure my baby has gone to dog heaven and she would've like for me to do well in my exams as she always nudged me in the morning to wake up and give my best. I did it and passed and I am very happy to share the news with you: I am now an MD! Wooohooo, after 6 long years I am graduating from Medical School, hoping to do my bit in the world to make it a better place. **

**Anyway, enough about me. I hope you understand that even though I wanted to update with all my heart, real life kicked me hard in the butt but I am back and happier than ever! Thank you all for your wonderful comments, encouraging messages and nudges. They have helped tons!**

**I hope you guys had a wonderful Christmas! What did you do? What did you eat? Oh, I love Christmas and wish I knew what everyone does. I'm a curious person.**

**Aright, alright, I've rambled enough and I bet you guys can't wait to read so, let's head on to it!**

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**Chapter 17 – A Savior**

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_**Previously: **_

_Her breathing caressed his nose. He was so close, he could almost feel them. His lips parted in agonizing anticipation. He felt a feathery touch that rocked his core with powerful shivers down his sides. Biting his lip, he stopped. He wanted to do it. He had wanted to do it for some time now. And now, that he knew they were untouched made him want them even more._

_He cursed himself. He would not do it. Not like this._

_His face moved upwards, touching his lips to her forehead. She tasted of sweetness and sunshine, of water and earth… so he lingered. He pulled up just a fraction and whispered against her head. "I will save you."_

* * *

It was quite some time later that Kára stepped into her chambers.

Night was falling fast and the cloud that had settled on her mind seemed to fall even faster on her subconscious. _He had said…_Loki had told her she had slept most profoundly down by the lake. It was odd, she did not remember feeling tired at all, nor voicing it aloud. He assured her, though, that she had been exhausted.

But there was a strangeness to his manner, something she couldn't quite place or describe. She would not presume to know him as well as others closer to him, but in regards to his behavior towards her, she had noticed a difference.

She walked quietly through her room, settling herself on the vanity.

The light reflected enough to look at herself through the looking glass, and she traced a finger down the side of her face.

_He had said…_

But she did not believe him.

It was not a matter of trust, for above others in Asgard, she trusted him. But something did not feel right. Everything was out of place. Yet, as she looked around her room, everything seemed to be exactly where it was last seen.

Sitting there, quite alone with a silence so loud it could not be broken even by the faintest sound, she felt bare. Never before had she felt unsafe there, even if it was not her home.

There was a vulnerability in her own skin. She felt exposed…observed.

Once more, she turned her head, eyeing the room critically, trying to identify anything that could confirm her speculation. It was useless, for she was quite alone, indeed. Only a soft breeze brushed past her, not unlike the one she felt every night.

It was such a strange sensation. It felt as if her insides were bare, her secrets in the open. There was a presence in the back of her mind that did not belong to the entity she concealed. It wasn't even obvious. She wasn't even sure.

She rubbed her arms with increasing worry, a troubled look on her face, perhaps wanting to be reassured that her skin was intact, her barriers untrespassed. But it prickled uncomfortably, a thousand specks of energy disturbing its integrity.

And Kára felt as she had not felt for a long time.

She felt violated.

It reminded her of home. When she walked the streets or took a stroll, people would watch her, scrutinize her. Their uneasy gaze brought her horrors to a resurfacing set of imagery and she was assaulted with the screams and flashed of light that had hurt other.

Kára let out a strangled cry.

Her skin did not protect her, nor did the clothes on her back. It was crude and gruesome, this twisted feeling. She sat still, quiet as her breathing allowed. No… the source of such feelings was not on the outside, though she half expected something terrible to happen in any given moment. When it didn't, the awareness and panic heightened.

She couldn't see, but could feel. They were eyes of a blazing color, a seething gaze set on her. Her body gave a sudden jolt, the hysteria having reached a limit, as she turned.

There was a startling, harsh crash as her vanity vials fell to the floor. She braced herself against it, her chest heaving as anxious breaths gave over. The soft glow cast from the flame lights should've warmed her mind, eased it into tranquility. But the room felt colder than ever.

There was something inside her that begged her to run, to crawl into safety, like a child scurrying away from the dark, an irrational fear of something unseen trailing her footsteps. The room was too quiet, her memories too loud and the sudden imprint of another presence in them was too distressing.

She didn't bother picking up the glass pieces on the floor. She didn't even acknowledge the slow, shy lashes of blood as they had pierced her feet.

Like a frightened child, she climbed into bed, pressing her back flat against the wall. She clutched the pillow to her chest, angry and afraid. It was never supposed to be like this here.

_Not here. Never here._

And when she saw the blood like small gashes of red marring the cream sheets, she cried bitterly into the night.

* * *

Loki's strides were swift as he walked up the halls towards his chambers.

The soft light cast from the wall candleholders could barely illuminate his form as his quick, determined march vibrated through the seemingly empty corridor.

Fortunately, no one had stopped him on his journey back. If they had, they would have had to endure a biting response to whatever it is they dared bother him with. He had a scowl on his face and he seemed to express a threatening gaze no matter where or what he was looking at.

In his mind, he could only see her eyes. She had doubted him. And what angered him the most was that she had been right to do so.

He wrenched the doors to his room open and closed them behind him with a violent movement of his arm, enacting the magic that had been the cause of him being so cross. He paced the floor uneasily, sneering at nothing in particular. His muscles were pulsating with restless anxiety.

It had been so close.

He had just left Kára back at the healing ward, aware that something was different between them. The walk back had been awkward and confusing for her and a more than a bit uncomfortable for him. He knew that she suspected something was amiss with his explanation of her exhaustion. He knew she was not a fool and had tried to act calm for his sake…or for hers.

She had edged away from him slightly, never walking as close as they had walked before. Touching her forehead frequently and unconsciously, she had looked over her shoulder more than once and a look of disorientation had fallen over her eyes.

He had asked her if something was wrong, appearing concerned over her, when in truth he knew perfectly well she had felt him. She must not have been certain it was him, though, because she had dismissed his concern with a small curl of her mouth that rather than resemble a smile, it had looked more like a wince.

There were no smiles when she bid him goodnight, nor that shy turn of her head as she passed the veiled entrance of the ward. Instead, she had looked into his eyes with that final attempt to uncover him, as she often did. It had been different, though. When she sought his eyes like this, she always did it for him, in a way. It was a calm pursuit of his soul, a way to reach him for…his own benefit, he supposed. It would be much like her, to act on account of others. This time, however, here eyes seemed wider, darker even. A storm raged inside but Loki was not sure what the tempest was trying to say. It was a desperate attempt to make sense of what she had felt and quite a dangerous way to try and uncover his lie.

_A lie. _

Loki took a small orb from his bookshelf, a brightly colored sphere of water essence, and in a savage impulse, hurled it across the room, where it smashed against the door.

The acute sound of the crash was delectable enough to satisfy the violence in his heart, but not enough to soothe the promise of the consequences he had provoked by entering her mind. He reluctantly admitted to himself that he had not been thorough in his planning. In fact, he had been hasty and ardent enough to dismiss any care for the ramifications. That was most unlike him.

He had to do something. He would not allow her to doubt him. Ever.

She was much too…unique. This entity inside her could be valuable to him, advantageous even. Just as Mjölnir had been forged within the fire of a dying star, Kára had been born, in a way, within it. She was a force to be feared and treasured, and like the weapon, she held power to create or destroy. But Mjölnir was not a living being, no, which made Kára even more precious and delicate. He could help her. Maybe teaching her magic would not be such a terrible idea, especially since it would aid him to understand her essence. In a manner it would save her, by helping her control it. In turn, she would help him, by eventually providing him with what he needed.

His father had once said Mjölnir was a fit companion for a king and Loki had to agree. He admired the weapon and envied Thor strongly for sharing this bond with it. He desired it for his own. As fate would have it, it had never belonged to him. But it seemed, fate had taken a shine to him now, as he was now the possessor of a secret weapon and his selfish disposition crowed with glee at this knowledge. It was almost too delectable. A lesser royal would have gloated, gossiped, but not him. He was much to cunning for this, too aware of the potential held by secrecy. He had much to uncover and so little time. Mjölnir, it seemed, was not quite as adequate for a king, as he once believed. Not if he ever wanted to be one.

It was moments like this when he did not see her. He knew her, yes, but did not actually see her in his mind. If she had been before him, begging him with those pained eyes to save her, he might have felt the utmost necessity to kneel at her feet and swear it.

He had meant what he said: he would save her. Yet, the darkest shadows of his heart betrayed the righteous desires of his soul.

He cursed under his breath. He could not deal with this right now. Whatever she had, whatever she was, it could wait. His priority was directed on her faithlessness and how best to dissipate it.

Because if he didn't, she would be lost to him and it was only a matter of time before someone else found out about her. He needed a distraction.

The hastiness with which he had approached her had been unsuitable, most terribly wrong. It was impulse that lacked imagination, a feeble endeavor to distract her mind. She was a sharp creature, built from insecurity and fear that nurtured her mistrust. As he had thought before, lies required skill and enchantment, a finesse of verbal and physical communication. The young man that had attacked Kára in her memory had lacked such skill and she had seen right through him, or at least suspected him.

But Loki could do better. He was, after all, the god of lies.

* * *

It was quite a happy coincidence, if he allowed calling it as such, that he found her in the Archives the next day. He did not approach her immediately in the morning, although he had half a mind to do just that.

But no, he needed to be patient, exercising every deceiving detail with proper care and decorum. His pretense did not require much planning, but it needed a subtle crafting of convincing behavior and mind games, to appeal to her strengths in order to provide her with confidence.

Something akin to guilt had settled in the back of his mind, a dampening shadow over the clearness of his thoughts. It was easy to exercise his treachery with anyone and everyone. Never before had he felt this slight hesitation. That dark shadow was new and different, unknown to him. It rattled him. But he didn't have a mind to ponder on this, not right now.

The bright central hall of the Archives was bustling with activity today. Asgardians were sitting in the central study areas, while others walked back and forth from the smaller passages, carrying tomes and parchments with them. The ones who noticed him bowed or nodded respectfully, aware that at least here they were bound to find him eventually.

He nodded back, only partially sentient to the people around him. The hall was illuminated with such ferocity; the afternoon sun alive with ferocity and it seemed to be sneering at the shadow of his heart. It held a melancholic quality and he was reminded again why he favored the morning sun instead. The light appeared to be setting on the conclusive victory of the knowledge he had obtained…and on the inevitable dread he had felt within her.

He breathed out harshly, his eyes roaming the small passages earnestly, looking for the elusive, old master. He only needed one answer. With his mind set, he had strolled inside his refuge intent on finding it, even if it meant porting over the same books over and over again.

Anundr's small frame appeared all of a sudden, hunched over the shoulder of a younger man who sat on a private desk. The Archives Master was frowning, addressing a question the younger man had produced as they both looked over a map. Loki halted, exasperated to find him accompanied. He had hoped for his inquires to remain private. He supposed he would have to wait.

But he didn't have to, because Anundr looked up as he scratched his chin at that moment. The young prince was about to step forward and greet him, but the older man smiled serenely and moved his head to the side, a subtle movement that motioned him to continue on his way along the passages.

Loki frowned, a quizzical look on his face. He was unsure of what his old master tried to communicate and the man poring over old transcripts kept muttering, drifting the Master's attentions back to him. Wise Anundr rolled his eyes at Loki's confusion and probed on further, another shake of his head to his right, a kind smile and a wave of his hand that effectively shooed him away.

The dark haired prince shook his head, slightly bemused. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, before he walked on. He passed one, then two passages and as he neared the third one he noticed it had become a bit more deserted. He glanced inside with a fleeting look and did a double take.

He recognized the small frame instantly, perhaps because his mind wanted to believe that it was her. But it was and his heart nearly stopped. He chastised it, feeling absurd. He relinquished the responsibility of such a feeling to the trepidation he felt about confronting the unknown, inevitably destroying whatever sentimental notion it possessed.

Confidence ever surfacing, he planted himself firmly besides the bust of an old legend and waited patiently until she would turn and notice him. He cocked his head to the side and observed her carefully.

She wore a pale gown today; so different from the ones he had seen before as they had been working garments. Its material seemed soft and loose, a gentle flow following her movements. Unlike the ones he had seen on many of the noble ladies, this gown did not enclose her tightly, but fell around her like a robe. It was only after he saw her move that he perceived its flattering side. It was the color of an early morning, a pale rose bordering on cream. Its long sleeves seemed to be the only fitting piece of clothing around her.

She leaned over a book and appeared to be restless as her hand traveled down the length of its scripture anxiously. Her eyes scanned the words wildly, skipping over sentences, desperate for information. And he saw, once more, that look of aversion in her eyes. It did not take long for him to understand why she was here. She was as he had been before, trying to shed some light on the darkness inside her. She did not appear to be finding any answers, though, and he felt a twisted sort of satisfaction at this.

Something curious happened then. She closed the book with frustration, her bottom lip caught between her teeth and straightened up, her eyes lost in a far away thought. Her dark hair fell over one shoulder, less groomed than before. His eyes traveled weakly down her neck. He must have been wrong in some way. She was more feminine than ever. The gown was not meant to attract attention, simple as that. But its ample neckline from shoulder to shoulder exposed her collarbones in a wide display and somewhere in the back of his mind he felt something dark stir, its heat traveling up his neck languidly and fleetingly. If he could move her neckline, he would expose her shoulder and the idea was enticing.

It was a brief moment that he got lost in his thoughts, missing her reaction entirely.

Kára had not found any answers to what she had felt: the panic, the vulnerability, the denudation. The books she had been reading were instructive, yes, on her land and it properties, but not one of them held records of her condition. She was growing frustrated and there was a brief pulse of pain inside her head. The feeling of someone else being side her had diminished slightly, but it was disconcerting.

She released a heavy and fearful breath. She straightened slowly and turned to gaze out the window. The sun was setting now and the tinges of colliding colors were painting the night sky as it usually did. It should've bee peaceful. The nights in Asgard brought her closer to them, the array of stars aligned in the sky. It was oddly comforting, because there was no fear of them here. They sat with majesty and hope, a beautiful collection of legends and dreams.

But there was no peace in her mind. She felt eyes on her now. It was unlike what she had felt the night before. This was blatant and obvious, a heavy pull behind her, not dangerous, merely curious and searing. She shook her head, unwilling to give in to the alarm. She turned around, giving up on her research.

"Loki!" She clutched a hand to her heart, startled.

It brought him out of his thoughts effectively and he gave her a small smile for apology.

"Why must you always do this?" Her eyes were stern but she smiled nervously as her heartbeat returned to normal. "You've startled me." She whispered, concerned her original cry had been too loud.

"I'm sorry." He whispered back, a cheeky grin on his face. Surprisingly, he meant it. After all, he didn't want to strain her discomfort further.

Kára shook her head, finding him incorrigible. "You said you would give me fair warning before you appeared." Her tone was not accusatory, but it diverted him. She hastily turned her back on him, attempting to cover the books she had been reading by arranging larger tomes around them.

It was not very subtle, Loki noticed, and with quick glance at her hands he was able to discern the title of one of the books. He had read that very same one nights ago, when he had trying to uncover the secrets he was now in possession of.

_Doubt._

Ah, so she had been looking for answers. That only meant that something had changed, indeed. Perhaps she had felt him inside. Confirming his suspicions, it only heightened his resolve to put that to rest.

He decided to indulge her, satiating her need for privacy and discretion. With that in mind, he pretended to ignore her choice of literature, abiding by a more playful, mischievous attitude. "But once again, we are not in your quarters, Kára." His voice held mock surprise as he circled the heavy table before her. "I could not have had a bird flying around, even with such a noble intention. Imagine the shock on the master's face."

She raised one eyebrow at him. "I would have at least expected you to announce your presence, not wait until you could've scared me."

"Indeed, you are right." Loki conceded with a slight bow of his head. "I apologize."

She nodded and the atmosphere changed. It felt cold, somehow. Where there had been a pleasant sort of tension in their encounters before, there was now awkwardness and a growing feeling of dread. It was most unsettling. The air was charged with secrets and deception, imagined in her mind and known in his. Her brow furrowed as she tried, in vain, to decipher the sensation around her. Loki made it better, company always did, but it still felt different. But she did not want him to ask about her well-being.

"I thought you would be at the ward today." He stated, trying to distract her mind. If he reached out, he may be able to feel her, but the risk was too high.

She shook her head, smoothing the front of her gown self-consciously. "No, I had some time to myself today."

"It's a beautiful day. Why spend it indoors?" His question was light and fun, a stark contrast to his feelings. She was being short with her answers and he did not like it.

"Oh, well." She hesitated, only slightly but turned a bright glance his way, trying to cover some of her trepidation. "I cannot neglect my duties, even if I do have some free time." She was pleased with her cover up.

He grinned. Cheeky little thing. She tried to deceive him. He found it most amusing and charming that she should try that. Attempt to win a hand over his abilities, thought she may not even be aware of them. Well, it worked for his advantage, so he used it.

Groaning, he spoke. "Kára, you have to enjoy Asgard too. I'm sure if I were to tell my brother about it, he'd be most insistent on taking you out for another night in town."

Kára smiled, a real one this time. The vast emptiness inside her mind that had felt contradictory overwhelming even with an imprint inside was dissipating. It felt odd, like wind sweeping dust from stone floor. She did not acknowledge this consciously, but that panic had slowly disintegrated. And all she felt was dull sort of pain, emanating from around her though the source was still occult.

"Would you be coming too?" The words were out before she could stop them, her voice sounding soft and small. Ducking her head, apparently busy over her books, her cheeks colored and only now he saw how pale she had been.

He stopped and stared openly. There was cleanliness and purity in her and the darkness in his mind intensified, now producing a vague clench of his heart. His gaze softened, as did his resolve. "Yes." He replied and it surprised even him. "You are indebted to me after all, remember? For a dance."

She changed the subject, feeling trapped in this tension. "I'm afraid I won't have time for that. But I did promise to attend the next festival."

He nodded, pleased with her compromise. "Indeed you did. I have not forgotten."

She rolled her eyes, fixing him a mock glare. "Is it possible for you to forget anything?"

He pretended to ponder over this for a moment, his gaze fixed in a point somewhere in the distance. "I don't believe so, though I seem to forget how to produce black birds at the moment."

It made her smile and he was pleased.

It resembled a sort of dream, this feeling. She pierced him through eyes too expressive to decipher. He made it so easy, this distraction. Gone was that vulnerability, replaced by youthful nervousness, invigorated by his presence. She tried to calm the disquietude of her heart, but it was futile and only natural. She had never met anyone as him.

He was young and aged at the same time, a vast knowledge inside the green eyes that shone wickedly, some sort of secret enigma within. He was that boy she had been supposed to love at some point in her life, a time where she would've been young and buoyant, but had never come along. Her life had not been the same since the star had fallen and many things that were meant to have happened were lost. He wasn't supposed to have come at all now. Not now when she…

Her chest constricted in a painful clench. It was a beautiful lie, but a lie nonetheless.

Her physical entity was distracted by him and the essence inside did nothing but relinquish control over her own psyche. As long as her mind was focused on the stimuli of her surrounding atmosphere, the star beyond would not surface. And Loki was perfect for that. Poor Kára did not know this, but her own naïve persona could be so easily enthralled by the confusing sensations of this unpolluted affection.

She sighed, exhausted. "I hope you remember to produce it next time. I may be cross with you if you don't."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you wound me. I do not believe it possible for you to be cross with me."

Once more she shook her head, a smile of disbelief tugging the corners of her mouth. "You will not like it when you find out." She nodded kindly and a bit sadly too. "I must head back."

"Stay a moment." He commanded, abashed by her sudden flight.

The seriousness in his voice stopped her. "Did you need me for something? She asked, confused. She thought they had merely encountered one another.

"Not particularly, but now that I've found you," He hesitated, suddenly looking very young. "And before you decide to run away, I have something for you."

She sobered up, a curious look in her eyes. "For me?" She ignored the mad tempo of her pulse.

"Yes." He said and the light suddenly seemed more like a glow and his voice more like wind. "A gift."

Kára felt shy all of a sudden, a light tinge of color on her cheeks. She stood before him, her hands entwined at her front, a calm demeanor so adverse to how she was feeling inside. "Why?" She blurted out. His jade eyes locked hers, a playful smirk on his lips. "Forgive me, that was rude." She muttered.

"I've had this idea in my head for some time." He started, unusually diffident. "I thought you might need this someday, if only just for practice." He chastised himself, as he sounded much like young boy in need of justification. "And I distinctly remember you disliked what you used before."

The question in her eyes was a wary one, struggling to understand what he was referring to. "What it is?" She asked softly, her gaze wandering about his hands.

He caught her gaze at his hands and let out a shallow breath. He moved his hands around each other, as if trying to catch air, slowly bringing them together until they rested palm to palm with each other. Loki closed his eyes, tugging at string of some far away energy. He moved them apart just as his hands and inside a figure was materializing. The orb glowed blue, expanding with veins of shallow light as it formed a box. She stood still, transfixed by his magic and he watched her with unbidden eyes. He pushed the box with his hands and it floated neatly towards her.

She looked up, another question in her eyes and he smiled encouragingly. Her hands were surprisingly steady as they outstretched before her, forming a platform where the box came to rest. It was light and she was somehow amazed to find it fell solidly in her hands. Somehow, it felt more real than she thought it would be.

It was a flat wooden box. Unlike the one where her daggers rested, the color on this one was light and cheerful with delicate carvings framing it. She placed it delicately on the study table, railing a hand down its side. The carving seemed familiar with emblems of stars and suns aligned. He recognized them immediately. It was home.

Kára felt a clasp on its front and pulled. The top opened silently and she pulled it up and all the way back, where it came to rest on the table. Inside there was a covering of a dark crimson color, but the fabric she did not recognize. It felt somewhere between fur and feathers as she touched it. She debated going further, an irrational fear for her soul.

A strong grip on her heart, she continued, pulling the straps that held the coverings together. She pushed them away from it center and her hand fell on another garment, soft this time but resilient its color of a dark maroon with a softer terracotta shade in pattern with it.

She took it by the shoulders pulling it out of its case. It was a full body suit, with complex sewing, the textures and colors changing over body areas that seemed to be more exposed to harm, the darker maroon covering them: neck, chest, shoulders, mid body, coming down to a belt low on the waist. It was subtle yet fit for strength she did not yet possess. These were war garments, fit for a warrior underneath the armor. The color was not of Asgard though.

Kára flushed with pleasure. This was the color scheme of her realm, her home. She held it up, admiring it before bringing it close to her, careful fingers feeling its softness and its endurance. "No leather?" She teased lightly and he could hear the strain in her voice, awed and careful.

He grinned. "I know you dislike it." He spoke daintily, a silken quality hiding his excitement.

"These are the colors of my father's hall. How did you know?" She asked.

He let out a soft chuckle. "I did some research." He stated and when she finally looked at him she saw his light excitement. He looked carefree and eager, much younger than she had seen him. It reminded him of that night at the public ball where he had seemed so jovial.

And he was eager for her approval. He would not admit it, but there was a place in his soul that lit up to her, nurturing on her smile. "I have seen you get better everyday. If you wanted, we could train harder. I believe you are ready and it pleases me to see that you believe yourself ready. And I thought it was time for you to have proper garments. I took the liberty of choosing for you and hope that you are satisfied with it." He was talking fast, an uncomfortable sensation at the top of his chest, constricting, conflicting his motives.

She heard him speak, and every word he uttered ignited a flame inside her. She felt oddly flushed and heated, warmth radiating from something deep within. But as she looked at him, she saw his insecurity, something she had never seen in him. There was a lost thread of his life laced with his speech and his eyes, a vague look of self-doubt that he fought hard to hide. And there was something else, something dull and aching that was not quite near enough to reach. He seemed sweet and innocent, virtues that had probably remained forgotten.

When he finished, his eyes fell on the garment. She clutched it close to her chest, a feeling of deepest gratitude surfacing. Her hands tightened on the fabric, enacting an agony of conflict she was not ready to show. Her heart was thumping madly in her chest and she was sure, it could be heard if it weren't for the soft chatter that filled the Hall. She felt she ought to thank him, but words were not enough. How was she to explain all that seemed to raging inside her?

Calm and collected, she approached him, one small step at a time. Her eyes were downcast and slightly ashamed, but she held the robes close to herself like some protective charm. Words were not enough, not for the expression of cherish she wanted to give him. But he couldn't not possibly understand why it meant this much. She was slightly at his side now and he was looking at her questioningly, but he had not time to react, because she suddenly stood on her tiptoes, her shoulder grazing his arm and pressed her lips to his cheek.

It was fleeting and ephemeral. Something that could have lingered seemed to pass much too quickly and as she pulled away, muttering a sincere, joyful thank you, his head pictured a mirage, much like this one but he would not have let her go. She would have pressed her warm lips to his cheek and he would have touched her back, strong, eager fingers traveling down her waist to pull her against him. Then, he might have…

His gaze fell to the floor, lost to the ambience. She smelled of cleansing water and sunshine and it seemed to drift around him, the sensation transforming into touch as her flesh lingered on face. He felt an ambiguous pressure, the ghost of a contact that had only just transpired.

"Thank you." She spoke again. "Loki, this is…" She wanted to say beautiful but it was not enough.

He understood. She had not liked it, no. The way she carefully folded it and placed it back on the flat box told him more. She had more than liked it and this awarded him a sense of victory.

He approached her, aiding in the closing the wooden lid. "Might I accompany you back?"

"Yes, of course!" She grinned and just like that every doubt had drifted, in a moment that had been lost to her, and now felt like it needed to be forgotten. "I could use a friend today."

"Hmm." He smiled warmly, and as she walked past him, his hand moved furtively by his side, slightly forward, catching her gown near her waist. The fabric glided across his fingers, feeling just as he had envisioned.

* * *

They had walked back to the ward in comfortable company, their steps slow and deliberate.

She looked every bit of a female today. Soft, willowy attire that he now noticed was flattering in an illusive manner, appealing to the subconscious. A shyness that was entirely too ladylike, calm and reserved in her comments, a fleeting look his way.

She would've been a powerful ally. Alas, that was not her destiny. And he wondered, if she had not stumbled upon the star, if her life had not unraveled the way it did, would she still be the same?

He was deep in thought as she continued to explain the properties of her land, when she slowed. They had reached the veiled entrance of the healing ward and had stilled him, as she always did when she was about to go in.

"Thank you for coming with me." She said, holding the flat wooden box close to her body. "And for this gift. I shall treasure it."

His grin was one of amusement. "I'd rather you wear it." He replied, but leaned in to whisper. "You're most welcome."

"Next practice then." She promised a childish sort of shine in her eyes.

"Perhaps I'll even let you fight me." He raises his eyebrows, an obvious challenge in his expression.

She laughs, a sound of skepticism escaping her lips. "Loki, please. I am nowhere near ready to – "

"Kára!"

Someone was shouting from inside the ward, a female voice with a urgent tone. She turned abruptly, her brow furrowing. From behind the veiled entrance Ástrid was coming towards them, her steps in a brisk run.

"Kára, we need you!"

She didn't hesitate. Leaving Loki by himself, she walked up to meet her handmaiden, a determined look on her face.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"We've been looking for you. The other healers…they don't know…how – " The honey eyed girl couldn't breathe but her eyes were frantic.

Kára nodded, while she passed the flat wooden box to Ástrid, which she took without question. The dark haired girl shot a curt look towards Loki, an apology in her eyes. He walked behind her as she headed inside, unable to contain his interest.

But what he saw as he stepped into the threshold of her ward was something he did not expect.

Chaos and order seemed to be colliding inside the normally peaceful room. He saw a small boy on one of the beds, healers rushing around him. He had a pale complexion, with a greenish hue around his mouth and eyes. His fingers, however, were quickly turning darker as were his lips, a final note of blue.

To the side, his parents, Loki could only assume, were shouting hysterically, panic and helplessness surrounding them like a cloud. Healers were keeping them at bay, trying to soothe them into composure, but they would have none of it.

Kára rushed forward, making her way to the boy's side. A quick assessment provided her with suspicion but she needed to know more. "Bergdis, what happened?"

Bergdis was at the boy's other side, holding him slightly as his body shook with uncontrolled movements. "He has just been brought in. His parents have not been of much help. We don't know if something bit him, or if it was something he ate."

She nodded and approached the parents who looked at her with desperation. "I need to know what happened."

"There's not time for this! Do something!" The man was shouting at her. "He is dying!"

Kára collected herself, a patient gaze setting on them. "I understand you're worried and feeling helpless, but I can't treat him without knowing what happened to him. Was he eating something? Was he injured?"

"No…" The boy's mother was crying, a note of hysteria in her voice. "He had something in his hand. It smelled bitter."

"Was it food, a treat?"

The man sighed, closing his eyes to try to bring back the memory. "No, it was… a plant of some sort. It was a white flower, small, like snowflakes."

Kára did not thank them. She quickly turned to Ástrid who seemed to be carrying a bowl with paste. "Ástrid, it was hemlock." Her voice was steady and driven and still he could hear a note of dread in her words.

The handmaidens moved then, with awful collected speed. Somehow, she had turned from soft female to resolute healer and he noted she changed not with her attire, but with her attitude.

She needed to save this boy. There was not much hope for him, but she had to try. She furrowed her brow, confused and scared that hemlock grew in Asgard. Then again, there were uses to its toxins, but they were hardly worth the risk. The boy was slowly slipping into a hazy sort of confusion. He was moaning and writhing.

"He needs to be held up, Bergdis. Ástrid, I need the oil. We need to get it inside him."

What happened next he did not see, it was much too fast and his head was swimming in the general hysteria. Loki watched in fascination as she issued command after command, working with diligence and harmony with her healers. The others were by her side, aiding her. She was not a leader, but a piece in a moving tapestry, practicality and ordained function in their movements. Somehow she had changed and the girl he had seen, so fragile and helpless, dying in her guilt was gone. And this savior had replaced her, a woman with unfaltering purpose, a steady hand and resolve in her eyes.

She was losing him. His movements were too erratic for him to sit still and drink what they had. It was too late. Her arms were restless, pulsating with an energy that refused to watch him die. And she felt his pain, a losing grip on his soul that screaming. Every part of his body screamed its fading energy, unweaving from its core.

She gasped, a sudden thought entering her head. She felt him quite as opposite as she had understood words that had been spoken to her, Loki's words. Was he still here? She glanced around, and there he was, a bit confused and a bit lost. Hope flared inside her. If he could do it…

She walked towards him. "Loki, I need you."

He snapped out of his thoughts, startled. "What?" His eyes were dark and wary.

She spoke quickly with those brown eyes set on him, faithful and certain. "You spoke once about binding energy. The echoes of its oscillations reaching out. I know you can feel them, but can you bind them?"

He was confused. "Yes, but – " His voice was full of trepidation, unsure of what she needed from him.

"Can you bind them back together, when they're unraveling?" There was urgency in her voice, like dying time.

"Kára, I'm not sure. It is complicated – "

She stopped him, taking his right hand in hers. They were cold and damp, but she squeezed them with reassurance and hope… "Please."

And he could not deny her. "What do I have to do?"

She led him towards the bed.

"What's he going to do to my boy? I won't let him." The man's voice resounded with suspicion and antagonism, freezing Loki. Bergdis was with them, attempting to reason with him.

And he felt unsure, of himself. He hated this feeling. So many times growing up he had known how inadequate he was to this realm. He often wondered why, ultimately accepting it. Yet, there were times when people reminded him of what he hated to know.

"Loki, I can't do anything more. He needs you. You're the last hope." She spoke firmly, commanding him.

Ignoring the man, he reached out to feel him, closing his eyes, touching the boy's chest and forehead. He was almost gone and yet he grasped the last strings of his essence. He used everything around him, plants, the healers and himself. He reconstructed the strands, ghosting the pattern of what he used to be and mirroring it in him. The boy's soul was strong and it greedily caught on to what was left of life, feeding on what Loki was providing. It grasped on with zeal, until it burst forth, a warm rush of life spreading through his little body.

Loki groaned, stepping back weakly. Bergdis steadied him, while Kára rushed over to the boy. He had regained his natural color, and somehow the feeling of dread about him had disappeared. His mother lunged forward, assessing him with eyes of incredulity. He was warm again and alive, steadily growing stronger as his insides reconstructed.

Loki stepped back, unsure of what happened. There was a sense of closing purpose in his mind and yet he could not understand it.

And what happened next shook him profoundly. The mother walked up to him, kneeling at his feet. She was speaking and yet he could not hear her. His mind was fogged with disbelief and insecurity. She took his hands, kissing them and he could feel her tears hot and searing, a reverence unlike anything he had experienced. The man came to his wife's side and he too was crying, though he attempted to hide it. He knelt too and bowed his head, grateful and humbled.

"You've returned to us what we hold most dear." The woman spoke. "My prince, you've saved him. How can we thank you?"

He was shaking and staring at them with agitation. "I –"

"Forgive me, sire. We owe you our lives, for you have saved his. I am sorry to have doubted…to have –" The boy's father stopped, as a regretful choke erupted.

Healers were pulling them to their feet, bringing them back to the boy's side. And something was growing inside him, a constriction and pressure on his chest.

He stepped back, unable to remain in this closed space, unwilling to accept what had just transpired. His feet moved without him noticing, taking him through the hall and out the ward. There was a garden across the veiled entrance, past the main hall that led all the way into the palace. The space was small and peaceful, overlooking the vastness of the realm. He could see the Bifrost and it seemed small, smaller now compared to this sensation. Suddenly the ocean beneath was looking much too small and yet overwhelming. Only the colors above were settling, mirroring his heart's conflict with strokes of colliding illusions.

He had felt more powerful than ever. Having thought that his magic could only be used for submission, he found it unsettling that he had just used it to save someone, a small boy. What other could not do, he had done. He had brought back his soul from the edge of the shadow world, grasping life in his hands, manipulating it.

He sat on a bench near the balcony's edge, letting out a shallow breath. He looked at his hands, feeling a sweet gratification. He had seen the fear and doubt in the boy's father. He had looked at him with the utmost dismissal, as so many others had done, as some still did. He had been shadowed and beguiled. And it all had changed, so abruptly. He had given them back their world, saved their sole existence. He could not begin to understand what it must feel to be a father, but he could imagine if they wore their heart out on a sleeve, submitting themselves to him in reverence and worship. Thoughts were forming in his head, illusions of the sweetest nature, his vanity reformed and strengthened.

His heart beat with a mad rhythm, recognition close to his soul and purpose strong in his hands.

* * *

Having put the boy under his mother's and Bergdis watchful care, Kára walked out, set in finding Loki. He had left, but she was sure he was not gone.

It took her some time but she found him, a solitary figure across the great hall, overlooking the Rainbow Bridge.

She walked slowly, feeling as if she was intruding on something deep and personal. He was still against the soft night breeze. It carried a dull melancholy tune, like buried pain echoing through space. It was subtle and piercing and so alike her own, the one she had forgotten because she had overcome it.

It was radiating from him, strangely. Her body was exhausted but the essence inside her was alert, inspiring the affliction of his soul. It assaulted her senses and Kára was almost knocked back with its power as she approached him.

There was a numbing scream, a song of lament and recklessness. And as she neared him, she could see him. His profile looked serene enough, a deceiving contrast to his soul's cry.

"Loki?" She spoke softly, afraid to break the atmosphere.

He turned and fixed her with conflicted emerald eyes, a slow breath preluding his words. "What did I do?"

His question was complex, and she did not know how to answer. Kára was sure, it asked a million different things and she could only address one of them.

"You saved him." She replied, sitting tentatively at his side. Her eyes were searching and patient and he was not sure he could look at them anymore.

"Why?"

Kára shook her head, confusion in her mind. Of all the things he could've asked, this was not one of them. His inquiry spoke of his own life and its end, the means in between and actions so far taken.

"Because you can." Her words were gentle, as she traced a finger down his hand.

It was the ghost of a touch and yet he felt her more real than ever.

"I had never –" He stopped, brows furrowed in silent contemplation. What did he want to say? He had never used his magic for this purpose, had never thought it capable. And he had never felt as he did. Important, essential, worthy. Hi saw the mother's eyes full of reverence and her husband's full of respect. And he could see more: Asgardians aware of his power, certain of his skill, and eager for his dominion, taking his rightful place.

The darkest shadows of his soul were moving, becoming dense with anticipation and excitement.

Yet something was missing, something small and bright.

Because she understood his pain, even if he did not know it, even if he wanted to hide it. She understood the lost look on his face, the absent gleam in his eyes. He needed more just as she had. But she knew he had not received it. Because it was his pain that she had felt, stronger and more heinous than his usual demeanor expressed.

She needed to touch him, to assure him that he was worthy, that he had done well, that he was everything she…

She took his face in her hands, her slightly trembling hands, and forced him to turn to her. He looked confused, ashamed even and more than a bit lost.

She felt warm on his skin and he almost leaned into her touch, a soothing peace to his crumbling inside. Kára moved her hands, caressing his cheek. Her fingertips grazed his ear and an insidious shiver arose.

His green eyes rose on hers, awaking with a flame of longing, confusing him further. And he seemed so broken, a shattered mirror of unknown reflections staring back, vulnerable and afraid, a shattered child hidden underneath. It was hurting her and it felt like physical pain, unrelenting, pitiless.

But then she spoke, seemingly so far away, with a voice that carried promise and eyes that willed him to understand.

"I'm so proud of you."

And he was lost to her as she was there for him, feeding his desire, nurturing his demise.

* * *

**IMPORTANT: I have envisioned Kára's war robes as Bastila Shan's robes from KOTOR. A picture of them can be found on my livejournal. Ignore the lightsaber lol, but it looks like hers. It shall be under Kára's Robes.**

**So finally I updated. Hope you guys enjoyed it. I'm already working on the next chapter, promise! Things are about to get juicy. Wooohooo.**

**For people without an account or who have the messages disabled: I will reply to your reviews tonight, so be on the lookout for them in my livejournal. ****I've missed you guys! You have all been amazing, sending me messages of encouragement and nudging me to get on with the chapter. They've all been very very helpful.**

**Please, please, drop a word or two with your thoughts. I love all your reviews.**

**Trust me, they make me very happy and they are greatly appreciated and treasured.**

**Hope you all had a VERY Happy Christmas and I wish you all the very best for this New Year. What are your plans, resolutions, how do you spend Christmas and New Year's Eve?**

**With much love**

**- Lily**

**PS: Please, excuse the typos. I shall get on to edit as soon as I get back from my cousin's bridal shower.**


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